


Stories From Winifred The Wise

by swaggentlemenbird



Category: Sofia the First (Cartoon)
Genre: Family Secrets, Mystery, badass sofia, because craig gerbers a coward, detective sofia and wormwood, redeemed wormwood, sofia and wormwood bonding, to a degree
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2019-07-25 20:46:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 27,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16205363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swaggentlemenbird/pseuds/swaggentlemenbird
Summary: Cedric invites Sofia and Wormwood to spend a few days with him and his family at mystic meadows. Sofia loves the meadow and WInifred's stories, but Goodwyn is the one completely enamored as his wife speaks. Almost magically so. maybe they're just in love, or maybe something's wrong with him. Wormwood, on a similar note, is being subjected to some kind of mind game by the old sorceress, but he doesn't know what she wants from him. both will have to work together to figure out the old woman's secrets.





	1. the meadow

"We've arrived, my lady!"

The coachman pulled to a stop with the horses and carriage kicking up dust around them from the natural trail, whinnying after being given a break from the long trek. Before them was the large gate and fence housing the mystic meadows, so rusted and hardly disturbed, it was strange to think the enchanting retirement home was here of all places.

How much longer the trip felt to Sofia without the endless excited chatter and giggles erupting from a wagon full of buttercups going on about badges. But she wasn't alone now at all, it only felt like that because her carriage-mates were so quiet she forgot they were with her in between sightseeing and dozing off.

Cedric sat at his own window, never really taking his eyes off it except to look back at her to make sure she was still in her seat. he was never chatty during rides, but the whole ride here he felt cut off from her, and in his own head. But not in a bad way for once. Her friend looked comfortable- though seeing as he doesn't have to share his lap with "annoyingly curious" twins this time around might have something to do with that, but still. He was  _almost_ smiling, and the lines in his face from constant stress and humdrum had nearly vanished, it brought a little joy to her to see him like this.

Outside the carriage, she could hear the coachman walking in the loose dirt and knock on the wooden frame.

"Did you hear me miss?" he called to her gently. "We've arrived at mystic meadows."

Sofia tucked her fingers under the window handle, and pulled it open to smile at the man.

"Thank you coachman, we'll be right out."

"Of course ma'am!" He smiled, and turned, walking to the back of the carriage where the trunk was as she watched him.

Back inside the ride, Sofia scooted closer to her mentor, and softly tugged at the sleeve of his robe, finally drawing his eyes and confused ones at that.

"Mr. Cedric were here!" she squealed, her excitement already pouring out.

"Well it's about bloody time!" called the gruff voice at her feet, startling her and Cedric, making her kick the carefully sculpted and carved bird cage lightly, but enough to annoy it's occupant."watch your feet! Hopefully you can remember that underneath the comical puff of your gowns, you still have legs!"

"Wormwood!" chided Cedric, snapped back to reality, quick to turn to Sofia.

"That's okay, Mr. Cedric," Sofia was quick to cut in, "I'm sure he didn't mean it. He's probably just aggravated from the long ride." she looked down and winked at the bird, who scoffed at her freebee, and chose to instead privately converse with the only intelligent passenger in the carriage.

" _Wormwood_ , quit grumbling to yourself!" Cedric reprimanded, already annoyed, tossing open the door to the carriage without a second thought and stretching to get some feeling back in his limbs.

Wormwood  _humphed_ in his cage. Sofia looked right at him and hummed lightly with a smile.  _Annoying little thing,_ thought the old bird.

Done with his stretching, Cedric seemed to remember just where they were and took a small gulp and a breath, turning back to the open carriage door.

"Get your bag my dear, I'll carry it. the coachman will handle the rest of our things." Cedric called, resisting the urge to look at the looming gate behind him.

Sofia grabbed her bag from under her seat and handed it to Cedric outside, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly at him with a big smile to show no malice in it.

"You mean all your things, Mr. Cedric," she giggled, "I don't remember packing three luggages of spellbooks and wands."

"Shh," her mentor urged with a grin, "If he knows it's all mine, he might make me help!"

"What was that, sir?" called the coachman, curious head poking around the carriage, stuffed case in his wobbling arms.

"Oh, nothing!" called the wizard, grabbing the cage from inside the coach, a mumble of  _finally,_  leaving the raven's beak. "Just be careful with the princess's things!"

"Of course!" replied the coachman in a squeak, a bigger box of magical contraptions taking the wind and strength out of him.

"Good man!" exclaimed the sorcerer, the raven, now free and perched comfortably on his shoulder, giving an amused  _caaaw_ at the lad's misfortune.

Just as she was about to step out, Cedric offered his hand to the princess, earning a flattered giggle from her, but acceptance still as she let him lead her off the steps, and to the gate, not letting go of her hand. She could feel his anxiety on the grip on her palm, shaking up her arm and pricking her heart. So she squeezed back reassuringly.

Frankly the coachman was grateful. If the princess was here to be the emotional anchor, it meant he didn't have to be like the past trips to the retirement home. And he would not get pressed into hand holding a fourth time.

* * *

_He's walking slower,_ thought Sofia, and from the exasperated sigh coming from the raven she was right. But she didn't press. Issues between Cedric and his father had been mended, it's true. But years of spine stabbing nerves when it came to visits full of criticism and arguing don't vanish in two, three, or four visits, so she slowed down with him.

And it was nice. The aged sorcerers on benches, boats, and pool chairs waved eagerly at the presence of their princess, at the young girl who lightened their time at the meadow, who's troop regularly visits for riddles, flycakes and dances.

The lake was beautiful, crystal like water, with fish who seemed to look right at her and pool together in groups to get a better look at the girl who doesn't look like any of the wrinkly men and women of the meadow, who didn't shy away from her reaching in to touch them with small ticklish hands, or swim away from her laughter.

The bridges connecting each piece of land where the streams separate them were Sofia's favorite. So simple, yet so unique. Hard stone, carved flat and cool to the touch, with lined wooden beams, old but still incredibly soft, overgrown with morning glories and sweet smells even through the day.

_Magic_ , Sofia thought,  _obviously_. But what a marvelously simple thing to magically enchant. Mystic meadows was a wondrous place, so much so that Sofia felt she would forget why she was here to begin with, M _r. Cedric_ , she focused on,  _you're here for him_. Every time she stopped to admire another aspect of the retirement home, she would look back to see Mr. Cedric looks so... _sad._ Every time she pulled away to get back to what they were supposed to be doing, he looked anxious as well as hurt still.

Sometimes she'd peak back quickly to see Wormwood whispering to his master, her friend, but nothing she could hear. Was it his parents? was it her? was it… Wormwood? No, he wouldn't do something like that, not anymore. It was confusing, but she wouldn't ask him now. _Later,_ she decided, _when he's feeling better and relaxed. Later._ So instead, she held his hand all the way to the cottage they were here for.

Once again she felt his nerves in her hand, but before she could squeeze back, he let go, and rubbed his palms together, running them over his eyes and sighing. Whatever was going on inside was noisy, and overwhelming for Cedric's already shot nerves.

Sofia didn't push him, didn't knock for him. He needed a moment and that's what he'll get. even snippy Wormwood knew to keep quiet.

Cedric opened his eyes, and brought up a fist but faltered before he touched the door. Nerves.

"Mr. Cedric," Sofia whispered so that whoever was causing the racket inside wouldn't hear her, "if you want to go look around some more, that's fine." she offered him more time, but he didn't want it.

"No!" Cedric managed, voice a bit strung, and wormwood quirked a brow at him, listening intently, and Sofia noticed. "No, we should just…"  _still wavering_. He coughed, and straightened himself out. "We should just go in."  _perfect._

" _Then knock already,"_  Wormwood whispered to him, but right by Cedric's ear it was shrill,  _"they're your parents, not half starved ogres!"_

" _This isn't exactly easy, you know!"_ the sorcerer shot back.

" _Oh of course it isn't, my mistake, I should remember all the times I struggled to open a door as a fledgling!"_

Sofia watched them bicker, concern marking up her face till Cedric near shouted back to the raven " _fine! You want me to knock!?, I'll knock for crying out loud!"_

and he did. Three heavy knocks were thrown on the door, and the sorcerer looked back at his shoulder companion with an air of clueless smug that irritated the bird. Wormwood rolled his eyes before grinning viciously in victory as Winifred's voice rang out to them, draining Cedric's color.

"Give me a moment, I'll be right there," all three heard.

And then Sofia understood. Cedric flew into a panic on the spot, biting his nails, not moving like he was stuck to the stone. Wormwood only guffawed in mockery, loud and obnoxious. He slid his eyes over to Sofia when he felt her dumbfounded stare that was slowly spreading into something he didn't like at all. The raven tried to steer her away with the same self righteous grin he used on others, and an air of cruel joy derived specifically from Cedric. But to his continued annoyance, all he received in return was a very genuine, very sappy smile that looked  _ridiculous_ on her, and was meant for the sole purpose of  _mocking_ him, whether she realized it or not.

It was his turn to sputter uncontrollably in a defenseless situation, with no other option but to look away in pitiful defiance.

the worst part was how condescendingly she dared to leave alone that last smidgen of pride he clung to by reaching over and taking Cedric's hand, pretending to offer comfort to the man who might just melt on the spot, letting him " _believe"_  she didn't clearly just see the raven press closer to Cedric's hair to do the same.

how _irritatingly_ merciful _._


	2. bird's nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> finally everyone's here

The door opened a tiny crack, and way down low was little Calista, a tiny gasp and a big grin greeting cedric and sofia. It was all the subtlety they would get from the girl because right after, she yanked the door full force into the wall, startling the family inside who all now focused on their three new visitors with surprise.

"Mummy, granny, papa,  _look_ , uncle Ceddy and Sofia are finally here _," t_ he little girl emphasized her excitement by running fully around them both twice and leaping onto Cedric's back, jostling sofia's pack' and the raven off, making the bird  _caaw_  in frustration. Seeing no room on Cedric's shoulder anymore, he perched on the princess's. "I told you he wouldn't run away, mummy!"

Cordelia appeared from the kitchen with Winifred, both women holding a stack of plates and bowls- for dinner, no doubt.

"Oh, so he didn't! Congrats, Ceddy, I was sure you'd run off with one of the horses before you worked up the nerve to actually come in," his sister chirped, smug smile and nose turned down to him, "guess now we have to nail the windows to keep you from throwing yourself out them."

"wonderful as always to see you too, Cordelia," Cedric sighed out under the crushing weight of his niece, "maybe if I leave now I can still catch up to your husband."

Cordelia gasped, but burst into laughing soon after. "yes of course,but I believe your old friend Greylock might already be with him, three is a crowd you know."

"Cordy, Ceddy-kins,  _enough_ ," Winifred scolded, "why don't you be a good girl and set the table for your poor mother?" Winifred tossed her daughter the handful of dishes, grinning as she huffed and struggled not to drop them all on her way back to the dining area, turning back for a moment to stick her tongue back out at her brother.

"Mature…" he calls back, his niece holding a little to tight to his neck. being strangled by a child a third his size was honestly better than acknowledging the one person in the room who had yet to greet him. Hopefully he stayed quiet for the whole visit. Cedric can already see his grimace out the corner of his eye.

"Calista, sweetheart, your dear uncle's probably exhausted from the trip, you should let him rest," Winifred said to her granddaughter. Gently plucking the red little bundle of energy from her son.

Calista pouted, but let herself be removed. "Aaw, but you're not really tired are you, uncle ceddy?"

"Of course not, my dear, how could he be when he lazily has a servant carry his belongings in for him."

that distinct gruff voice belonging to Goodwyn finally chimed in since Cedric's arrival. the fact that it was to criticize him didn't sit well with sofia, and judging from the dig in her shoulder from Wormwood's talons, it didn't with him either.

"Perhaps you  _should_  have let him run off with a horse, we only need one to get back home anyway," the raven whispered to her, his snide comments were easily recognized for genuine concern for his friend. Sofia tilted her head slightly, letting her hair brush wormwood's feathers, and he hated how she took his words as a call for comfort, moreover how it actually did help keep him from clawing at Goodwyn's ridiculous mustache. Especially how she kept refusing to acknowledge her attacks to his pride.

"Honestly, Cedric, letting the coachman greet us before you did," Goodwyn continued, striding over to his son as he spoke, putting Wormwood on the defensive. Before the raven could launch, Goodwyn's grim frown cracked into a goofy smile big enough to put Calista's eagerness to shame, and perplex everyone around him on how he kept it hidden so long. "For shame, my boy, how on earth am I to hug a coachman!"

before Cedric knew it, two arms were wrapped around him, and his father's head was on his chest. Caught off guard, he didn't really know how or what to respond with so he did what his clocked thoughts would let him: hug back and say something incredibly stupid.

"Oh, I don't know," Cedric mumbled, "he's not really against hugging if you promise not to tell anyone."  _Damn it._

Goodwyn pulled back to stare at his son who tried to avoid the eye contact, only to meet eyes with his smirking mother, making poor Cedric's cheeks burn in embarrassment. He tried to look over to the young girls in the room, only to find them both suppressing giggles, while his raven only hung his head in disappointment.

"Yes, well…," Goodwyn coughed, letting his son go, "I suppose this means the hugging is over then, sorry, son."

_Oh how Cedric wanted to die right now._

Winifred chuckled, and finally let her son off easy. "Alright, teasing's over. Lets go get dinner on the table, Goodwyn dear," she said, shuffling her husband into the kitchen with plenty of grumble from the man, before turning back to her granddaughter. "Calista, show your uncle and the princess to their rooms, please."

"Yes, granmummy," Calista chirped, taking Sofia and Cedric's hands, and running up the stairs. They were off so quickly, Wormwood was annoyingly tossed again from someone's shoulder by the little tyke. He gathered himself quickly, begrudgingly making to catch up when he heard Winifred whistle a quick little tune that made him stop for a moment in the air, feeling like he had just been hit with a wave of vertigo for a moment and set down on the closest perch he could find, the coat hanger.

Wormwood looked back to the old woman who had busied herself with polishing one of the many knick-knacks on the various shelves that lined the walls. Strange. Goodwyn had collected many odd artifacts over his years of sorcery, and looking around, the raven saw none that were claimed by Cedric's mother. She was a sorcerer, a sort of traveler he thinks he remembers from her stories Cedric would repeat to him during their days at Hexley Hall, and summers spent back home from the woman herself directly.

Speaking of which, she seemed to not notice him still there, like she hadn't very clearly disturbed him from just a tune alone.

Wormwood was no fool, he knew magic when he saw it- heard it, in this case. He would have asked her, but remembered that humans weren't accustomed to animals opening their mouth and saying words, so he kept his beak shut, but he didn't like it. He didn't like feeling as though nothing about him was a secret to the sorceress. He didn't like being toyed with. storing his thoughts for later, he flew off upstairs to be with Cedric. Yet his thoughts irked him.

If she  _were_  a wanderer though, it would stand to  _some_ reason why she didn't have anything, If she was just a sightseer. exploring, experiencing, but never keeping. Winifred did seem to respect the natural world more than her husband did. Perhaps that was why she was Winifred the  _Wise_.

He flew into an open door, and perched at the headboard when he saw that Cedric was inside, on the bed, the girls by the small fireplace, admiring more knick-knacks on the mantle. The sorcerer must have noticed his late arrival because soon after he landed, he felt fingers card through his feathers, conscious to the raised hackles, brushing them down.

"Oh, Wormy… are you alright," the sorcerer asked him, "you seem bothered?"

He wished he didn't have to answer, Cedric's fingers were soothing, and for a moment he preferred not being able to communicate if it meant just enjoying the attention.

"Just," he began, quiet, "an ache in my back from the ride barely hitting me. I should be fine tomorrow." It was a lie, but he was good at lying. Much like someone else, apparently.

_Winifred the Wise._

Who had exactly had dubbed her such was a mystery, she knew more than she let on, sure, but what mother didn't? Who knew of Winifred? Close family and… well just Family, and  _him_ of course, but Winifred didn't have friends till she arrived at the meadow, she never mentioned anyone before, and no one mentioned her. Goodwyn had been in several history books in Cedric's workshop, previously his father's, so it made sense he would be, but for as much as the old wizard did love and respect his wife, he had no tomes even mentioning her.

_Enough!_  Wormwood thought,  _it's not like she's your mother, drop it._

A moment passed and his thoughts spun again.

_not even in ones the raven was sure she had to be in!_

Winifred would tell them of the adventure husband and wife took together, Goodwyn and his collection standing as clear evidence that they were true, but still no mention of Winifred no matter what version he read through. Where was she? Did she just not care for fame? No, even if she didn't, some version in some kingdom  _had_ to have mentioned her even without her approval. She was simply… looked over.

Wormwood tried to stop his incessant flow of thoughts, but it was like a floodgate had opened to his natural inquisitiveness stemming from his memories- no.  _from the whistle_.

What had she done to him?

Nothing. It was what she had  _been_ doing to him for nearly _twenty-five years_ and had barely decided to stop doing, with a simple whistle of all things. It made his hackles stand again, but Cedric had stopped his petting already to inspect the mantle with the girls.

Is this what she had been doing to people? Making them pass her over? What for? And why do it to her own family? Her own husband, children, grandchild…  _and him_? Of course he understood he wasn't  _family_ , and her family seemed to be the ones she was prioritizing in regards to her secret keeping.  _his feelings weren't hurt, obviously_ , that's  _ridiculous,_  but he was a bird, what threat would he pose to her? He couldn't always speak with humans, so he couldn't tell anyone if he wanted to. Tell them what exactly? If anything he needed to  _ask._

Why Winifred had done this for years was a mystery. Why she did it to her family, to a  _bird,_  was a mystery. What she wanted from him now that she released her hold on him was a mystery he didn't want to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poor wormy


	3. a lovely dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's time to eat

"And this one is from when papa cleared out a whole cavern of giant spiders when they settled way too close to Dunwiddie!"

Calista had run up and down the full length of the room's wall shelves of baubles, and was now detailing to Sofia the origin of a story confirming, overgrown spider fang.

"Wow, Mr. Goodwyn must have been on a lot of adventures," Sofia commented, backing up and eyeing the whole collection.

"Well not really," Calista confessed, "all this stuff is from trips he took, or missions he did for the king, back when he was the royal sorcerer, right, uncle Ceddy?."

"Indeed," the older sorcerer replied, he was currently busy trying to undo the latch on the fireplace, but the grate seemed too rusted to open.

Sofia looked up and down the shelves, confusion growing on her face, like she just noticed something.

"Hey, Mr. Cedric," she began, the sorcerer hummed in acknowledgement to let her know he was listening. "Doesn't your mom have any-"

_Knock knock knock_

Everyone turned to the door to see Cordelia standing there, a big smile on her face. "Oh girls," she sang, "dinner's ready!"

Cedric coughed, looking offended and feeling ignored, his attention fully away from the fireplace.

"Oh right, sorry," Cordelia strolled into the room grinning wider, "you can come too, Wormy," she teased, petting the raven's head, annoying both him and Cedric. Sofia didn't even notice him in the room when they came in.

"Cute," Cedric snipped.

"Thank you," cordelia mocked in a sweet voice, pushing her fingers to her cheeks and smiling. "Alright ceddy, let's go," she finalized, rounding her brother and pushing him out the door with plenty complaint from the man. The others in the room following after.

They walked into the dining room in a line, taking their seats and drawing grumbles from Goodwyn at the head of the table.

"It's about time son," he grouched, "any longer and the birds would have come to collect our food."

Well it was good to know his father hadn't gone  _too_ soft.

"Oh hush it, old man," Winifred scolded with emphasis by slapping her husband's wrist with a serving spoon, making him wince, "if we wait for you to get some decent manners, we'd miss Calista's graduation from Hexley Hall!"

Goodwyn went back to grumbling while everyone at the table stifled giggles at his damaged pride.

After moments of platter passing, the family began to eat, even wormwood had a small bowl of meats to dine from. He recognized it of course.

It was more on the oval-side from being hastily hand sculpted with inexperience, the painted cartoonish ravens, and a crookedly written "wormy" were kept to last in overglaze and heat from a mother's oven. It had been years since he used it, and less since he thought of it. He didn't even know Winifred still had it.

Guilt tugged at him, Winifred of course  _knew_  what he had done, and this was obviously his punishment for betraying Cedric,  _her son,_  and so far it was working. wormwood wasn't oblivious to manipulation, and she was no stranger to manipulating, as he was learning. Actually, he was honestly expecting her to pluck him like a chicken when she saw him, he would have prefered it over whatever game she was playing with him now, guilt trip included. He tried not to stare at her directly though.

"Thanks for the food, Mrs. Winifred," Sofia complimented, "it's incredible!"

"Thank you, my dear, me and Cordy spent all afternoon on it," the old woman beamed, her daughter also giving a thank you.

Sofia really couldn't help but find the whole thing funny. "I didn't think sorcerers did anything the mundane way, especially since I've seen Mr, Cedric able to conjure food for the enchanted feast!"

Goodwyn laughed at that. "Goodness, my dear, we may be magical, but we don't eat, sleep, and breathe Magic! Haha!" Winifred elbowed him, reminding him to mind himself, but still Sofia felt a little dumb for saying anything.

"What he means, princess, is that sorcerers can't develop a dependency on magic." Sofia looked over to Cordelia who took over her father's explanation. "It's not good for them. At a certain age, a sorcerer's magic tends to wane, and certain spells take more out of them."

"As for the enchanted feast," goodwyn continued, "the whole event is supposed to be magical, think of it as a sort of personal test for sorcerers to display their skills and spells. The quality of the feast reflects the quality of the sorcerer." the old man let his son think he didn't see him avoiding eye contact. "It's one of the first lessons instilled into sorcerers at Hexley Hall. in fact, the school offers quite a few programs dedicated to basic life skills for those who need them. Why you should inspect them yourself if you have the time."

"Really? I didn't think Hexley hall would have anything like that at all," sofia replied in astonishment and amusement, finding the idea of wizards taking a cooking class to be incredibly funny, and the idea of looking into them intriguing.

"Alright, father," Cordelia threw in, "don't bore the poor dear while she's trying to eat!"

Goodwyn huffed in return. "Well the princess asked, I didn't want to simply brush off her question."

Sofia interjected quickly. "That's alright Ms. Cordelia, I like learning about magic!"

" _Like it, sure,_  but I don't think you'll like it when he makes you sit through one of his lectures about  _the basics of wand care and repair_  when you forget one simple rule about it. something that Ceddy could probably recite word for word from how many times he did," Cordelia turned a smug grin to her brother,  _"right ceddy?"_

He didn't reply, but Cordelia yelped right after, then reached under the table to clutch her leg,  _"hey! Who's the mature one now!?"_

He still didn't answer, but couldn't hide his growing snicker for much longer with Wormwood's full blown laughter beside him.

"Uncle Ceddy! That wasn't very nice!" calista scolded, but it wasn't enough to make her mother forgive the laugh she know she heard from her.

Sofia felt a little helpless in this situation, it was like anything anyone did led to a steel trap of arguing for this family.

"Cedric, Cordelia, behave yourselves for goodness sake! We have two children in the room who can control themselves better than you two! Honestly, here I thought my kids had grown and moved out, but apparently I was mistaken!" Winifred was fuming, her scowl twisting her face into something terrifying. "Apologize. Now."

Both adults winced and zipped their mouths, scared that opening them would cost them their tongues. sofia looked across the table and noticed Calista also taking refuge in her chair as much as she could press herself into it. Even Wormwood looked frightened to death  _and_ anywhere besides at Winifred when Sofia looked to him. Goodwyn, however, seemed completely frozen. _And Mr. Cedric thought he was intimidating?_

"Well?" WInifred wouldn't warn twice.

Grumbles of sorry were exchanged between the siblings, and both went back to pouting and shoveling food. Goodwyn seemed to come to, coughing and going back to his dinner. Poor Wormwood had left behind his petrified state, but looked frazzled still as his beak trembled while he ate from his bowl. Sofia worried, but knew trying to comfort the bird right would be met with annoyed squawking and flying feathers.

His eyes seemed focused on the end of the table, but before she could follow his line of sight, he snapped to her, and squawked anyway as a warning to look away from him. She did, but she was also getting tired of his difficult attitude, especially when she knew he wasn't okay.

"Oh don't mind him dear" Winifred laughed, startling Sofia, "Wormy's always been a bit of a grump."

"Much like his master." Cordelia coo'd, wiggling her fingers at the agitated raven,  _fear-of-motherly-wrath_ forgotten rather quickly in favor of teasing.

Wormwood, however, clearly didn't like the attention, more so than usual, so Sofia tried to take the focus off him by changing the subject.

"Oh, I know," she chuckled, "Mr. Cedric reacted like a spooked cat whenever we bumped into each other in the halls of the palace! I'm just surprised he didn't hiss at me"

The sorcerer's family all laughed as Sofia's comment made Cedric choke on his spoon, Goodwyn only bowed his head in disappointment.

It wasn't the kindest way to remove Wormwood from the spotlight, but Cedric was used to ribbing from his family, and Wormwood clearly hated being the subject of it. Even if the grouchy bird would never admit it, he was her friend as much as Cedric was.

Speaking of Cedric, a part of her did feel bad about throwing him under the wagon as his family all scolded or teased him for his skittishness, introversion, attitude, and out of nowhere, his bad posture. But he was fine, especially since without looking at him, she could feel Wormwood's relief, and begrudging gratitude.

They were both more clever than the other gave them credit for.

The rest of dinner passed by with thankfully friendlier conversation, and of course jokes at Cedric's expense involving the coachman once Cordelia was informed of the events in the living room while she was setting the table, Winifred didn't even bother scolding her daughter for them, probably cause she also found them amusing.

After dinner, Cedric and his father stayed behind to clean and put away dishes while everyone else gathered at the couches. Winifred chatted with Cordelia about Calista and her eventual enrollment into Hexley Hall, Calista and Sofia playing what games they could find on the bookshelves, and Wormwood scrolling through a book, looking busy more than he actually was, especially since he was facing away from them. Finally the two men came out from the kitchen, and took a much needed seat after the load they had washed, just in time for Winifred to stand and demand everyone's attention.

The old woman pulled one of the chairs over to be in front of her audience, and sat down before them all, a cheerful grin on her face.

Sofia looked around in confusion to the others who seemed to know what was about, but a look over at Wormwood made her stomach turn. His eye was a slit, critical and cold, and a seemingly random reaction from what the old sorceress had said next.

"Who wants to hear a story?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone comes down to dinner, and Cedric and Cordelia are those bitch as siblings who gotta fight when they see each other at a family function


	4. a growing suspicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what a sweet couple

Sofia loved stories, and she was sure a story from Winifred the Wise of all people would be wonderful. However, a glance at Wormwood's cold shoulder told her that he cared little for her tales. Grump.

Her staring must have been telling because Cedric then turned to his raven, concerned. Wormwood was quiet almost the entire time they were in the house, and frankly it was worrying. He was used to his bird's mood swings, but even a Wormwood in the middle of a pouting session would get over himself enough to listen to one of his mother's adventures.

Cedric whistled, and Wormwood knew exactly who that was directed at. Begrudgingly, he turned to look directly at a sympathetic looking Cedric that was gesturing to his shoulder as a seat for his friend.

_How annoying,_  the raven thought, closing his book with his beak and flying over anyway to nestle into the sorcerer's robe. He seemed to forget they weren't alone because his feathered face absolutely burned at the sound of Calista and Cordelia _"aaawing"_  at him. All he could do in return was caaw at them but the damage to his pride was already done.

Funny that after drowning in his thoughts about the woman, he seemed to forget Winifred was also there. His glance to her was accidental, but her returned intense concentration on him made him feel violated. Like she had gone ahead and plucked him clean of feathers anyway. His skin crawled.

Sufficiently intimidated, Winifred removed her eyes from Wormwood and onto Sofia, acute eyes softening at the princess.

"Sofia darling, how would you like to hear about my favorite adventure?" Winifred emphasized the fascination with broad gestures of her hands sweeping the air around her.

"What is that?" Sofia asked, already allured, and snug in her new seat beside her mentor.

"Oh you'll love this one," Calista interjected, sappy gaze painting her face,

"The story of how me and my Goodwyn met." Winifred concluded, loving gaze pointed at her husband who was sitting and staring just as dreamily back to her.

Sofia positively glowed at the opportunity to hear something so intimate and beautiful, her heart swelling almost audibly from the familiarity and trust the suggestion implied.

The adoration in her voice made Wormwood's stomach tie into knots, emotions he wasn't entirely familiar with boiling his blood, twitchy talons scraping the soft fabric of Cedric's robe.

Sofia, of course, happily agreed to the story, attention already glued onto Winifred like it was done so with a honey paste.

"Wonderful!" the passion in Winifred's voice was made of pure joy to anyone not suspicious of lifelong ulterior motives. "Now listen up all you children, husbands, and symbols of death!" she threw a wink to the raven, who only narrowed his eyes at the obvious mockery.

"52 years ago, in the peak of spring, a young, handsome wizard-in-training, was packed and ready to leave his prestigious school, Hexley Hall, for a much needed break to the calming coast of the north, he had allowed his friends to go ahead without him while he wrapped up his studies, knowing he'd find his way there easily. Unfortunately, Goodwyn had gotten hopelessly lost on the way to the vacation spot, and would have had to spend the night in the dark and mysterious woods if he hadn't come across a little shack just past the thicket of trees, alone by a cliff overlooking the sea.

" _Salvation,_ he thought, and knocked on the door. It was only a few moments, and after, a woman answered, she curious to find such a fancily dressed wanderer all the way out in the middle of nowhere. She would have been a little more awe-struck if he didn't look so pathetically beaten down, dirty, and covered in scratches. But my, was he a handsome one.

"Poor Goodwyn was tongue-tied the second he saw her, she was young, beautiful, and had quite the attractive nose," Winifred accentuated her words with a light tap to the bridge of her nose, smiling, "the lady stood there, waiting for her surprise visitor to speak, but all he did was flap his lips like a fish! She waited, and waited, then  _asked him_  if he needed something. After a bit more gaping, do you know what his charming first words to this darling girl was?"

Sofia giggled, and humored her storyteller. "What were they?"

Winifred grinned smugly, " _hi."_ Sofia giggled some more, " _about two minutes of staring and blushing, the only thing this poor soul could manage was a quiet little 'hi'! Honestly, I thought he would wet himself from the effort it took!"_

Winifred's children burst into laughter, led by their mother's loud barking over so clearly remembering her husband's face at the time, even imitating it between breaths of air. After her own giggle fit, Sofia looked sheepishly at Goodwyn in his seat, expecting the normally prideful man to be embarrassed or flustered, but all she saw was that same love-struck look from before Winifred's story began, and found it odd he wasn't trying to defend his precious reputation over the howl of his kid's laughter. But Goodwyn was old, any embarrassment he felt over his past gracelessness probably faded with time, the golden years spent with his beloved recreating his blunders towards her as fond memories from their shared youth.

It was beautiful to Sofia. She was too young to know that kind of happiness, but wise enough beyond her years to recognize where it came from. Maybe one day she'd find that kind of unabashed love and comfort with a special someone who would feel like a part of herself she couldn't be without.

It all warmed her heart, yet the thought of herself having time out of her duties, or being like the old couple before her, made the warmth feel hollow. She couldn't see herself settling down or having children, growing old with a  _someone_  beside her, regaling tales to her babies' babies. Then again, she was only eleven, and left it at that.

The laughter had died down, and Winifred continued her tale, wiping tears from her eyes and clearing her throat.

"' _Hi',_  was all this young man could say, getting a simple  _'hi'_ , back from the woman. He was adorable, and clueless to how much of a disaster he looked to her. She took pity on him- knowing he most likely stranded himself in the woods, and invited him in, gave him a change of clothes, some food, and letting him warm up by the fire, even allowing him to sleep for the night."

Wormwood was puzzled, he could have sworn there was another detail to this tale, he's heard it before,  _years after_ Cedric first brought  _him_ home to his mother. His gut knotted again, something vile poking at his intestines, but feelings wouldn't offer his suspicions anything, so he chalked it up to Winifred's cruel illusions on her family, on  _him_. Though still, he couldn't recall what that detail was.

Goodwyn gave a grumble, almost inaudible, then louder but still unnoticed by the others, but not Wormwood, and judging from the slight turn of her head, not Sofia either.

Wormwood though, was plenty aware of the  _uncharacteristic behavior_. Goodwyn never failed to bluster if his pride was at risk.  _Never._ Something was wrong with him, but he didn't know what. He didn't remember sharing the old man's odd expression when Winifred told stories, and the others weren't sharing it currently either.  _A different spell,_  he gathered, but why? What extra measure needed to be taken against Goodwyn that separated him from his kids?

"Mother…," mumbled clearly, the old sorcerer, then again, "your mother, she…"

It was Winifred's turn to panic, and boy did it feel good to Wormwood, finally watching this puppeteer squirm.

Sofia was perplexed. "Your mom?" she asked Winifred, "is she in this story too?"

_That's right!_   _She had a mother,_ but why she was left out of this telling was suspicious, her  _"mother"_  was long dead, and hardly important to the story even before. Yet Winifred seemed thrown by her husband's hypnotized comment, like it was a horrible disruption.

Winifred was quick, "ah, yes dear. I had lived with my mother in the cottage, before she passed." she put on a solemn face, and sofia ate it up, apologizing for her insensitivity, though the raven knew some deeper cogs were turning in the sorceress's head. "It's alright dear, I've made my peace with it, and have enjoyed the time short time I spent with her. That's what matters." Sofia also ate that up.

Now a new knot fisted itself in Wormwood's gut. Like Winifred had crossed a line he didn't know he had. He was no stranger to lying, tricking, or even bullying the princess himself, but something about Winifred manipulating her made his blood go from a hot boil to raging fire in his veins.

She barely knew Sofia, yet the girl was apparently ample target enough to make her feel like she was family, then use her sincerity against her like it was a game. It was cruel, it was needless, even Wormwood had his boundaries, he could be cruel sure, but only out of idleness, irritation, or anger. He was a jerk, not a sadist.

"My mother was still alive when I met Goodwyn. she didn't much care for him, or his extended stay at the cottage when he decided to spend his spring break with me. 'too pampered, too intellectual, too annoying,' she would say not that she said much at all, she was already ill and preferred her solitude, but she knew we were in love.

"Eventually, Goodwyn had to return to Hexley hall, but we always kept in touch, writing letters, and visiting each other as often as we could. Eventually, I grew weary of that little shack, and not long after my mother's passing, I took up adventuring, while Goody graduated and took his father's place as royal sorcerer under king Roland the first. Years passed by, we moved into different lives, but never let the other go."

Sofia looked to Goodwyn, once again expecting him to cut in with some boast or praise for his time in the king's service, but still nothing, just the same honeyed eyes. Was he alright?

Wormwood wanted to smack Sofia for letting her suspicions show so easily, the girl was clever, but still young, and trusted those around her, so she had no reason to hide her thoughts. It would be years before that discipline developed in her. fortunately, Winifred's eyes were everywhere in looking to each face who was listening, even his, he had thrown subtlety to the wind when he realized she could see right through him, and gladly shot her defiant glares. But he wouldn't let Sofia fall under the sorceress's scrutinizing eye, so even he had to be watchful of just how much he observed the princesses actions. Especially now that she was getting to the same page he was on. All he had to do was wait for those sofia-instincts to kick in. he would have referred to it as "protector-instincts" since they practically went hand-in-hand, but protectors didn't teach Sofia her skills of detection and hoodwinking, only helped her refine them. The princess was a social survivor long before them, and he wouldn't insult such talent by crediting others who didn't deserve it.

"It was about a decade of awkward attempts at courtship before he actually asked me to marry him. But I said yes, and we've been happy ever since."

Recognizing the end of Winifred's story, Sofia snapped her eyes away from Goodwyn, with as little movement to her head as possible to avoid her suspicions being noticed. Winifred seemed unaware, but Wormwood instantly recognized Sofia's lightning quick reasoning of danger now that her aforementioned skill set had been activated.

_There is that conniving little princess he knew._

Now that Sofia was on high alert, all Wormwood had to do was convince her that he wasn't against her, and that shouldn't be too hard, since they were already... _ugh,_ friends.

_Oh god, they friends._

"Did you enjoy the story, dear?" Winifred asked, sweet smile and all.

Without missing a beat, no waver or fear, in her voice, or intention of coming forward with her question, Sofia answered. "Of course, it was so sweet how Mr. Goodwyn took a decade to ask you!"

Winifred seemed none the wiser.  _Seemed._ "Oh thank you dear, and trust me, if you thought it was funny, try  _waiting_ ten years to be asked!"

"Yes, father was quite spineless back then, right daddy?" Cordelia teased her father, but got only a grumble in return. Something that should be a cause for at least a stare from his daughter.

Everyone left their spots on the couches, saying their good nights and heading for the stairs, Sofia played along for now, saying her share of good nights and following Calista to their shared room, looking only out of the corner of her eye to Goodwyn and Winifred still in their spots. Only one seemed autonomous though.

From Cedric's shoulder, looking at the back of Sofia's head, Wormwood could practically hear her thoughts at this point, " _Ms. Cordelia doesn't seem to have realized her dear father didn't answer her, princess. You can't go to her, try someone else."_ and sure enough, Sofia turned her head to look at Calista pulling her along by the hand,  _"a hard pass, Sofia, she's too young to understand, or to distrust her dear grandmother. Don't drag her into this."_  And he was right once again, Sofia immediately looked to the only person left- Cedric. " _As good as you're going to get, I'm afraid. Are you sure?"_

Sofia seemed to be seriously considering Cedric, before her eyes dropped just an inch down, and now she was looking right at Wormwood.

Looking away would make him look suspicious, and he couldn't risk losing an ally right now, but Sofia could read him like a book, so instead of giving her that cold shoulder he gave so many others in hopes of scaring them off, he looked right back at her, determination in his eyes, and a resolve that offered no challenge to her directly, but confirmed her suspicions that something wasn't right. That Wormwood was also in a state of suspicion of this place. That  _they_  were alone. At least he hoped that's what message he was sending and not _"those meats from earlier aren't agreeing with me,"_  according to Sofia's wisecracking rabbit, all of Wormwood's expressions mirrored that to some degree.

If Sofia understood, she didn't say, but the girl was smart, and coming to him would take time. but Wormwood was already an impatient bird, and this situation was proving dire.

he couldn't afford to wait long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're best friends  
> I know this one's really long, sorry, but I honestly couldn't cut it down any more than i already did


	5. no sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its late and everyone's having a good time

_ The upstairs floorboards creaked, _ was what Sofia made sure to make a note of when everyone split off into their respective rooms for the night. Of course she never rushed an investigation, and had no intention of  _ running _ through the halls, but making an analysis of her surroundings made her feel more at ease when she knew she had little time, and little knowledge of anything else around her. Then there was Wormwood...

“I brought some games we could play before bed, Sofia! ...Sofia?”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Sofia wasn’t listening to Calista, her nerves were jittering up her spine and fuzzing over her brain, making it hard to focus on anything besides the routine drills and practice sessions with the protectors to keep her from panicking on the spot.

To her luck, Calista only laughed at her spacing and dragged her inside their shared room excitedly, the wooden door groaning from the push, Sofia also noted, as Calista was going on about some fun activities they could do before bed.

A look at the wall clock told Sofia that It was currently eight-thirty, Calista was excitable but still an obedient child, if her mother asked her to be asleep by ten, she would be. Cordelia would probably check on them some time after, then finally go to bed. 

Then all Sofia had to do from there was wait till she was sure everyone was asleep.

* * *

 

the fireplace had made the air stuffy.

Luckily, Cedric remembered that Wormwood hated too much heat in one small room, so the raven spent the last thirty or so minutes on the open windowsill, enjoying the cool breeze that blew in over far off treetops and kempt meadow grasses.

During winters back in their tower, the sorcerer would often leave the single window they had open for him, for when the humidity of their Furnace inevitably irritated the cranky bird, like all things did, and allow him to take a break to fly through bone chilling crisp for a couple minutes then return relaxed but shivering, in need of the warmth provided from their furnace and his master’s body heat.

_ Their furnace, _ could it really still be called that after everything? After his return, the raven abstained from referring to anything in the shared space as  _ theirs, _ lest Cedric laugh in his face and remind him that he wasn’t out on his own out of the kindness of the sorcerer’s heart. It was a ridiculous thought and he knew it wasn’t true, but regret is enough to keep anyone from accepting forgiveness when it’s offered.

A strong breeze rushed in and made the raven flutter his wings in surprise. Cedric tensed for a moment, but relax when the flapping  _ didn’t  _ continue until they faded from his earshot into the night and never to be heard again.

The bird didn’t like this new routine of theirs. Of  _ his _ . He didn’t like the Cedric who would  _ hesitate  _ before opening the window for him now. The Cedric who’s shoulders tensed the second his helper flew out for a break. The Cedric who slammed the window closed upon his return and finally relaxed his shoulders as though he hadn’t been since the bird took off. The Cedric that still thought Wormwood would abandon him and regularly accepted when it would happen like it could happen anywhere, anytime.

The two idiots who still wouldn’t talk things through like the adults they were.

It made the raven think and draw him back to what seemed so long ago. it reminded him of late nights spent awake together at Hexley Hall, where Cedric drifting off to sleep was instructed by him to be met with painful pecks to the hand, face, arms, whatever would keep the sorcerer-in-training awake long enough to finish his essays. Cedric never left the Window open then, and was very against his raven flying off to the mess hall to pinch a few treats to share with him, lest Cedric be punished for association or instruction. 

Whatever, Wormwood always ignored his scoldings, and was never caught by patrolling eyes. So any night his master-to-be was up late and hungry-no matter how much he denied it, Wormwood was off to get a pocket full of grapes, sweets, or whatever he could get his hands on.

“ _ Gateway crimes,”  _ the raven mused, but he knew it wasn’t a joke. As far as he could remember, he had always felt a need to cause trouble. Maybe he was just a bad egg, maybe the magic Cedric poured into him as grooming to be a helper corrupted him. Maybe it was just because bad deeds always directly correlated with Cedric’s happiness, or were demanded from Cedric himself.

Still, the bird deserved  _ something  _ as payment for his late night overtime as a tutor, coach, motivator, or sometimes shoulder to cry on when Cedric failed yet another test, when the constant threat of expulsion threw him into a panic attack, when the mockery of his classmates left him beaten down and ashamed of the stain he was on his family’s perfect legacy. Those days when Cedric was dangerously close to the edge.

_How could they forget all those nights?_ _How could wormwood forget?_

“What’s the matter, Wormy? You’re not still mad about the teasing are you?” Cedric snuck up on him, and from his half relaxed posture leaning on the wall beside him, he wasn’t too concerned with him flying away anymore. That, or hidden lightning reflexes were ready to snatch the raven like he were a couple marbles the second he took off. Ha!  _ Hidden? _ As though Cedric was slow in grabbing him by the talons to practice some spell or potion on him. “You know Cordelia’s always been a pain, you couldn’t have forgotten that.”

No, he wasn’t still mad about Cordelia, not that he ever was, like he was never mad at Cedric’s attempts to experiment on him. If anything, Cedric’s sister threw him into another fit of nostalgia, to times when Cordelia swiping yet another thing from Cedric’s room and never gave it back, of Cedric getting Wormwood to tear up all of her clothes in retaliation, of Cedric finding petty yet excessive revenges to be a perfect outlet for all his self-loathing and anger. Of Wormwood encouraging him down his lonely path, and vice versa.

“No, I was just thinking,” was what the raven finally answered, already slipping back into daydreaming.  _ God it felt like lifetimes ago. _

“Well alright, I guess im headed to bed then. Do you… want me to leave the window open for you?” Wormwood was almost offended by what exactly that offer implied. He preferred the cool air, but if it gave Cedric some peace for even just tonight, Wormwood would suffer the  the furnace’s heat.

“No, please, close it.” the window was closed and latched, and the raven could see Cedric’s whole body relax because of it. It hurt, and Cedric didn’t even have to actually say anything, he didn’t even know what effect he had on the raven. Did Wormwood even know?

* * *

The candle was almost burned out but thankfully wasn’t the only light in the room, Cordelia checked on them just about an hour ago, and it was getting close to midnight from what Sofia could read on the shelf clock from this far in the dark. She gently tapped Calista, then waved her hand in front of her eyes.  _ Still sleeping, good. _

The sheets the girls were on were like silk, and the mattress was plenty soft from a lack of use, even though Sofia was sharing the bed, she doubted that Calista could feel her slipping off it.

The floor was cleared of stray pieces and objects when Calista’s games were put away. a sweep of her socked foot told Sofia that nothing was left lying around, she had been thorough in her cleaning, but caution was crucial here. She tiptoed to her bag and pulled out a soap bar she brought with her, the door to the room squeaked, but some lubrication to the hinges was sure to quiet it down. 

She passed quietly to the door, rubbing her bar of soap along every nook of the hinges and it’s attachments she could squeeze it into. Sufficiently lubed, she replaced the soap, and slowly cracked open the door only as much as she needed, listening for any squeaking. There were none, but she wouldn’t let herself relax just yet.

She slipped out of the crack and into the hall, closing the door behind her. She couldn’t discern which panels made noise from everyone stepping everywhere, and she couldn’t afford to guess either.

Sofia cupped her amulet, hoping to conceal the outpour of light, and spoke hushedly. “I wish to be small.”

* * *

It was unbearably hot in the room, and watching Cedric sleep only brought more memories from their life together, making everything feel so heavy, like his memories were gripping his body and pressing him down to see if he didn’t break. When did memories have the power to make him feel so weak? So tired.

Maybe they always did, and Wormwood spent too long being cold and cut off from his thoughts to ever really experience it. He liked to think he favored survival and power above all else, but in the crystal master’s company, that ideology didn’t hold together so well. 

Every night spent awake in dirty, abandoned farmhouses, or hollowed out trees led his mind to wander back to home. At first he thought it was the material things he missed: his fine food , his perch, and a whole garden of fruits and berries to pick from at his leisure. But every one of those “possessions” led him back to the one person who gave them to him.

He remembers Cedric hoarding nearly all his earnings for the first two years in the king’s service like a half crazed dragon, and Wormwood could understand it. Food, clothes, toiletries and other necessities were provided by the crown, so personally spending wasn’t necessary.

What especially wasn’t necessary was for Cedric to surprise him with a brand new, expensive perch. The wood was taken from an old tree in a jungle that had fallen over from old age, expertly handcrafted by a fairy who had taken up the practice, and most importantly, made just for Wormwood. “Worth every penny,” Cedric prided, and yet still didn’t even get so much as a caw in thanks for it ever. Not that Cedric cared if he didn’t.

_ Great, _ the raven thought,  _ if it’s not one Goodwyn filling up his head, it’s another. What a family he had. Cedric, that is. Of course. _

Wormwood was close to yet another mental barrage when something under the door caught his attention. It was a light, bright and shimmering, like glitter. He knew exactly what it was, and it looks like the princess wasn’t planning on getting his help after all, but he needed her, so it looked like waiting was done.


	6. midnight detective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> little princess, big adventures!

Sofia watched the bright shimmers around her gleam and fade while she shrank to the floor. She bit her lip, waiting for anyone who heard or saw the light to come out and catch her. No doors opened, so she was safe for now.

The little princess took a step forward onto a plank and listened for a creak, hopefully at this size she wouldn’t provide the weight needed for it to make a noise. It wasn’t, and she stepped fully onto it, and onto the next, getting closer to the rotunda at the center of the house.

She made it to the banister, and rounded it to the stairs. Winifred and Goodwyn were rather short, meaning so was the stair railing, good. She climbed the carving in the post to the top, slipping off her socks and stuffing them into the pocket of her nightgown. She sat and positioned herself for the curved way down, and slid all the way to the bottom, pressing with her feet to keep traction. She would hate to imagine the fall if she didn’t slow down before the ramp at the bottom of the rail.

She made it, and slid off as easily as she did the bed earlier, and brought her amulet close, “make me big again.” with no one around, she felt more at ease with the glow the power produced.

It was here that Sofia found herself at a bit of a loss. tutor sessions with Mr. Cedric taught her a lot about magic, one lesson in particular being the guide for this investigation:

_ “All magic has the potential to be dangerous, but charms are a very different kind of danger. Charm spells were made for the purpose of altering or controlling an individual, more if the caster is strong enough.” _

Mr. Goodwyn was charmed, the signs were there:  _ unfocused stare, inarticulateness, lack of autonomy.  _ But Sofia was still just a novice when compared to even the simplest of sorcerers, the amount of help she could actually be weighed on her, at some point or another, she’d have to involve Cedric. Preferably later. Especially since the controller seemed to be his own mother. A Cedric unwilling to believe anything Sofia had to say about his mom was just as much of an obstacle as Winifred’s magic.

_ Slow down, one thing at a time, remember the lesson. _

“ _ The strength of the charm is dependent on two major factors: the sorcerer’s magical aptitude, and the type of charm in use. Most charms require a sort of catalyst to ensure the hold on the victim stays in place so the caster doesn’t have to themselves. Some common catalysts are jewelry, mementos, anything of personal value. these can be destroyed" _

Sofia inspected the trophies, plaques, and display cases, nothing seemed wrong with any of them. Even if there was magic inside any, she didn't think it wouldn’t be much good in controlling Goodwyn,  _ personal items _ was key, and after years of collecting, Sofia doubted that Goodwyn was emotionally attached to any of the baubles here. Winifred had lots of jewelry, but she wasn’t the victim, and her kids and husband had none. Object charms was out.

_ “charms meant for a group of people are bound by sigils, and get their potency from how frequently they’re next to their caster, their target and for how long. Commonly, these are placed in rooms with lots of activity, ballrooms, living rooms, dining areas...” _

Winifred’s kids were under some kind of spell too, yes, but Sofia didn’t bother looking for any sigils. It would require frequent contact, Cedric and Cordelia had their own lives, and thus neither visited enough for such a charm to work. And using a group charm on only Goodwyn would be a waste when object charms were more efficient. that one was out too.

_ “However, there are some charm spells that are too strong for a catalyst, and can only be cast and held in place by an incredibly powerful sorcerer with the magic to spare to maintain it. Though most only last a couple weeks, barely months, as even a few days can take a lot out of you. There was one case of a sorcerer controlling his wife for nearly a whole year before the strain killed him. Going beyond that would be completely out of the quest-put your hand down, Sofia, it’s impossible.” _

Sofia could find no magic in the trophies, Goodwyn wore no jewels, Cedric either, Cordelia did, but not often enough to be special or to work, Calista hated jewelry, and the whole family was never together enough for a sigil charm to work. The only possibility left was one that chilled Sofia to the bone. Winifred, kind, encouraging, patient Winifred, was capable of casting and maintaining multiple charm spells with no catalyst and multiple targets for _fifty-two years_.  Winifred, who told stories from her youth, doted on her son, and held conjuring contests, possessed an incredible reservoir of potent magic far beyond what even the most skilled sorcerers could even hope to amass in an entire lifetime of pure dedication to the arcane.

This was far beyond Sofia. This was beyond everything Cedric, the fairies, and even witches had taught her. No, not beyond,  _ against. _

Fear slicked through Sofia like oil,  dripping from her fingertips to her elbows, then further till it pooled in her gut and made her sick with the need to vomit. She’s felt this fear before. She felt a lick of it when the ship pulled into the harbor and her father told her queen Shuriki knew they were coming. It bubbled and groaned when she finally saw her in person, heard her speak, and welcomed them all to Avalor with a wicked smile and a battalion of ruthless guards who Sofia knew wouldn’t hesitate to impale a little girl like her with one of their bayonets if their queen commanded it.

the true fear, however, grabbed hold of her on the carriage ride into the palace. One touch to her amulet, and the memories that weren’t hers thrashed in her head like the bull fights her mom and the uncle she never met watched as kids back in Galdiz. Forty-one years of bitter grief and anger that was princess Elena’s only salvation. Elena, a fifteen year old girl, barely older than Sofia was, who could still be called a  _ child by most _ ,  _ unhesitant to take a life in exchange for life taken. Shuriki who looked right at Sofia with those cold eyes and smiled the way only ruthless, unfeeling monsters can after all they’ve done. _

Sofia, who had a job to do, a story to finish, who grit her teeth and bore through the terror, and smiled back at the murderer sitting beside her.

But this was no story she could give a happy ending, she had no quest, this was her, alone and directionless to save a man, a family, from a powerful sorceress she couldn’t afford to underestimate. Could she even  _ overestimate _ ?

_ Wait, the secret library! _ If any place had knowledge about a sorceress as powerful as Winifred, it would be that! She’d have to find a time to slip away though, not now, it’s too close to daybreak. Tomorrow, She’ll go for a walk, maybe spend time with another resident here at the meadow, get them to cover for her, then she could slip away to the library and be back before too long-

“And just what are you doing, skulking around in the dark, hmm?”

Sofia’s blood ran cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> six chapters in and it's barely the second day, not even, it's been like 12 maybe 15 hours probably
> 
> charm lore and rules
> 
> also damn did that carriage scene in the secrets of avalor shake me to my core, holy god it was good
> 
> Sofia didn't give a damn tho, straight up stepped on that witch's foot and yoinked her wand like nuthin'
> 
> fr tho, this little girl is scary, and I will not tolerate any disrespect towards queen Sofia from anyone


	7. cahoots

" _Wormwood! You scared me!"_

The raven perched on the rotunda's banister was looking down at the frazzled princess, smirking in that way that just about every animal back at the castle found punchable, and right now Sofia was starting to understand why.

The annoyed princess balled her fists and huffed, turning her back to her guest in favor of looking around the room some more. Wormwood raised a brow at her.

"What, not scared I'll caw like an alarm and tattle to someone that you're down here snooping through things that aren't yours?"

Sofia looked back at him, her baby face looking amused in mock offense, and he found her nonchalance annoying.

"Of course not, were friends."

That line alone was pushing him to do it, but he still needed Sofia. Greater though, was the need to bite back her assumption with some scathing comment. He flew down to be on level with the princess, a familiar little blemish wormed its way into his gut, and came out like hot bile.

"Yet still you realized that I knew something was amiss, didn't you? Yet you didn't seem too keen on coming to me for assistance. What, can't trust the little backstabbing raven anymore? Can't say I blame you."

Sofia stopped in her tracks and fully turned her attention to him. She looked hurt, genuinely hurt. Wormwood panicked and for a moment assumed his comment cost him his chances of getting help. That Sofia would reject him as coldly as the imaginary Cedric he always thought about did.

"Wormwood…, you don't really think that about yourself, do you...?"

Her question caught him off guard, and he looked back at the princess, beak gaping like a fish, eyes a-panic. He recognized the vile feeling in his stomach, but assumed it was birthed from Sofia's irritating assertion of friendship, he meant to offend her. He reassessed his words in his head, the self loathing in them transparent now. He's offended many people and animals with his awful commentary, but  _himself?_  It was new, and what's more it actually  _did_ hurt.  _But where did it come from?_

"Wormwood…?" _oh drat, he still hasn't spoken has he?_ "Are you okay?" she reached a hand out, and Wormwood almost squawked in his thrash to get away from it.

"No, I-" _what was he saying?_ "I _meant,_ why didn't you come to me for help!?" Wormwood's whisper was harsh, and his thoughts scrambled, but he had to get this conversation away from his  _feelings_ before the princess sat him down _._

"I didn't want to get anyone else involved, it could be dangerous." Sofia accepted the change in topic, but the raven knew she wasn't done with the previous one.  _Great_ , he had a personal therapy session with princess  _don't-repress-your-feelings_ to look forward to _._

"Of course, ever the  _considerate princess aren't you?_  Well, whether you want me or not, I'm helping," Sofia was about to protest, but the raven shushed her. "You're not the only one to notice something wrong with the old man. I was under the same spell as Cedric and the others, until Winifred released me," panic was setting into Wormwood's voice, all the confusion and helplessness he felt for the last couple hours was finally overflowing. "But now that she's let me go, I have _no idea what she wants from me, or why it's me she wants something from!"_ he tried to collect himself, not wanting the princess to see him a complete mess.

Wormwood took a deep breath, getting to the point of his confrontation. "But for me to come to you for help isn't something she's expecting. Your autonomy to ask her questions alerted her to the fact that you aren't under her spell. She doesn't know that you realized something's wrong with Goodwyn, let alone trying to help him. She'll be keeping close eyes on me, expecting  _me_ to make a move against her, but not you."  _when was the last time he felt this excited? This hopeful? It was like scheming with Cedric in the tower, except with someone who possessed some sense of subtlety._

Sofia seemed to be taking it all in, good.

"Wait, but how do you know she isn't onto me, Wormwood?"

Sometimes her questions were just annoying. The bird sighed. "I kept her attention on me as much as I could during her story so she wouldn't notice you. So far, you're safe."

Sofia lit up, and he regretted how sincere he sounded. "Really? That was really nice of you, Wormwood, you didn't have to do that."

It was the second time Sofia's words left the raven speechless. He wouldn't make a fool of himself twice however, and tried to keep his response curt, "yes,er-well… of course I had to- It  _was_  only practical to keep Winifred's attention away from you so that I could-" the girl's grin only got wider, _"oh, zip it!"_

"Alright, Wormwood," Sofia's amusement was wiped away, looking far more serious about what she had to say, "we'll work together to figure out what's wrong with Mr. Goodwyn, but for now let's get back to our rooms," she looked around at the various skulls that lined the shelves, some animal, others mythical, some human, "I don't like being out in the open like this."

The raven agreed, but looked perplexed at the princess who attached herself to a beam like she was making to climb it.

"What are you doing, do you want to get caught already!?" he hissed at her.

Sofia stopped,"I can't go back up the way I came, the stairs are too loud."

"Then how did you get down here to begin with?"

"I shrunk down."

_Oh, of course she did-wait, what?_

"I'm sorry, what did you do?"

Sofia laughed, and cupped her amulet to show him, like the power was on display inside the gem, "my amulet lets me shrink whenever I want. It's one of its powers!"

Wormwood just sighed,"I'd be shocked, but I think after chasing you around as a cat with a dog and bunny in tow, my weirdness expectations from you are a little exhausted." that made her laugh. Wormwood never really thought himself funny, and according to the princess' irritating rabbit and friends, no one else did either. Back at Hexley Hall, making Cedric laugh was easy, maybe because being cruel came easily to Wormwood himself. A dead fish stuffed into a school bag, a firework potion under a professor's desk. Maybe making Cedric laugh was just an excuse for him to be awful. Maybe he was always using him.

"Anyway," the bird continued, "just shrink down again, I'll carry you up, I'm much quieter."

Sofia shrank down, and Wormwood was quick to snatch her up, careful not to pinch any part of her or hit anything along the way like he did with her annoying rabbit. That brought a smile to his face.

He dropped her off right at her door, and turned back to his and Cedric's room as the princess grew back to her original size, but Sofia called out to him, making him look back.

She looked around, then at Winifred's door, and leaned in close to him, "if you can, try to get Mr. Cedric to go herb picking with you, when you're alone, tell him you're going to get some yourself and meet me at the recreation center." she opened her door and walked in, looking back and winking to him, "bring a basket!"

Her door closed, and Wormwood expertly opened his from practice, and perched himself at Cedric's headboard, trying to make-do with the sweltering heat. Maybe he should've left the door open to let out some of it.

_Damn it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally


	8. morning worries

It was currently eight in the morning.

Cedric was currently bustling about the small room and it's connected bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth and looking for the case holding his vests. Why his master always needed to trap himself in multiple layers of suffocation was lost on Wormwood, sometimes looking at Cedric made Wormwood feel hot for him.

Then there was the bows.  _Oh how he hated those!_  Sometimes Cedric would fall asleep with them on, leading Wormwood to peck him awake to take it off, Wormwood tried to do it himself once but just ended up choking him. They both laughed about it after Cedric could breathe again.

That made the old bird smile. That and watching his master trip over his own shoes on his way to the closet.

He remembers once, while he was...  _away_ , the bird told that  _hideous weasel, Twitch_ about some of his and his old master's daily routine, venting about Cedric and all his difficultness. The weasel called him an overworked housewife and laughed in his face, and earned himself a nip at the hand for it. Of course that only encouraged him.

Wormwood's amused smile was gone, thinking about the thing Twitch said after.

" _Look on the brightside, feathers, with you finally free, maybe that stupid sorcerer finally killed himself without you!"_

Wormwood didn't bite back, didn't nip him for his audacity. Instead he flew behind both him and prisma the rest of the trek. It would be a ridiculous death, but Cedric had built his life around his only companion, and made it a very real possibility. It kept him up at night under the guise of being the lookout for guards or people. It Made him nervous, worried.

It made him  _angry_. Cedric didn't need him, he stopped needing him, especially with the princess around now. Sometimes she would bring him plates of food from the kitchen when he forgot to eat, knock on his door before bed and remind him to go to bed, brought him things he thought he would find interesting. Things Wormwood did. Things Wormwood had always done.

He hated her, hated how she made Cedric smile, made him laugh, get out of the tower for an adventure and leave his lifelong companion behind to wait for him like some common house pet. He hated how she waltzed into Cedric's life, he hated how she made him forget how much he _hated himself, hated how she was_   _good for him, showed him how much Wormwood wasn't-_ He hated  _Cedric._

It was barely morning, and already Wormwood felt exhausted. He's been feeling like that a lot lately.

Cedric came out of the bathroom, hair combed, and adjusting the buttons on his sleeves. His gloves were on the bed, and as he leant down to pick them up, he caught a glimpse of his raven's grim expression. He looked deep in thought, something Cedric noticed his doing a lot of lately.

He cleared his throat, getting the bird's attention.

"Er- Wormwood, are you feeling alright? You seem pretty…  _distant_  lately."

"I- no, I-," what could he say? It was too early to get emotional right now, it was exhausting even thinking about it. Then he remembered Sofia. She wanted him to go with her somewhere, it was important.

"Wormwood-"

Said bird was quick to cut him off though. "I was just… thinking while were here- in the meadow, we could, um, go ingredient picking, for any potions we need to restock on back home or for you and Sofia's um… magic show today?"

God, he was just as bad as Cedric. The stupid grin he could feel on his beak wasn't helping his humiliation.

Cedric thought for a moment, unsure.

"I don't know, me and Sofia already packed what we would need for our demonstration,"  _of course you did,_  "do you know of we need anything restocked back at the tower?"  _of course I do._

"Yes, in fact, we're running out of sage, rosemary, and marigolds." his confidence was back up, inventory was something Wormwood knew, he spent his life keeping it. And he wasn't lying either, he kept careful track of what Cedric used, to make a mental list of what they needed. It helps when you can't write. "I've seen several shrubs and plants that have what we need. Even some bay laurel trees. Why don't we go after breakfast?"

Cedric seemed convinced and wholeheartedly agreed, and Wormwood breathed a sigh of relief as he followed Cedric out of the room to go eat. All he needed to worry about now was getting away when the time came. And when that time was. Sofia wasn't very specific.

He sat on Cedric's shoulder, noticing the lack of thick material under his talons.

"You're not wearing your robe."

"Oh, no, I thought I'd go without it today, I'm off the clock after all." Cedric laughed, then stopped halfway down the stairs, suddenly self conscious."why? Should I put it back on?"

"No, no, you look… fine. Almost comfortable." Cedric accepted it, and continued his descent to the dining room. "Could lose the bow, though." that one made Cedric laugh. And for a moment, it felt like music to Wormwood.

Everyone seemed to already be at the table already, and Cordelia was quick to pick up the snark.

"Why Ceddy, you're early! You didn't have to skip waxing just for us!"

Not even WInifred could suppress a chortle that time. Great.

"Ugh, you didn't even comb your hair right, here let me fix it." Cordelia produced a brush in a puff of color and lunged at Cedric's head, while he tried his best to block her hands, his face red.

"Would you cut it out!? My hair is fine!"

"Your bangs aren't even, just let me do it!"

"I've been combing my hair for years Cordelia!"

"Doesn't mean you're doing it right!"

Wormwood perched on an empty chair after being thrown once again from Cedric's shoulder. Watching as the two adults bickered and fought over now two combs in Cordelia's hands.

It was never too early for a fight in the Goodwyn house.

Sofia was jittery in her seat, like she wanted to break the two up. How strange and dysfunctional this family must have seemed to her, when hers probably gathers for daily hugging hour. Different strokes.

Looking at the princess brought back the question of how the two would meet without Winifred's suspicion, but with the sorceress awake and alert in the dining room with all of them, he couldn't ask. He couldn't put Sofia in danger like that.

Speaking of the sorceress, she finally decided to step in and separate her offspring and sit them down. She looked Wormwood right in his eyes as she sat Cedric with him. Making his spine tingle.

Breakfast went by with little argument, and plenty of chatter about everyone's plans for the day. Cordelia and Winifred would go boating on the lake, Goodwyn would sit with other sorcerers around the stadium discussing different studies of magic. Cedric spoke of his morning plans with Wormwood, not noticing his mother's watchful eye on his bird. Lastly was the girls. Who wanted to hang out with the other sorcerers in the rec hall before going off to play in the flower fields. They would all be back in time for Cedric and Sofia's show.

Whatever Sofia had planned, he needed to wait and see.

_God, he hated waiting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> were gettin there


	9. like old times

"Be careful girls! Sofia dear, please look after my sweet little Calista!"

"Ugh, mummy..." Cordelia was currently pinching her daughter's cheeks and adjusting her clothes before letting her go anywhere in the meadow. Cedric had forfeited his robe for the day, leading to Calista to do the same. She really loved her uncle.

"Don't worry Ms. Cordelia, I'll make sure she doesn't go too far."

Calista grumbled at that.

"Oh, alright, I'll stop tormenting you, sweetie," Cordelia stood, and fixed her dress, "go have fun."

"We will, bye mummy!. Come on Sofia!" Calista grabbed the princess's hand and was already out the door when Cedric came down the stairs, a few baskets in hand and Wormwood on his shoulder.

"I see the girls are already off. It's good to see Sofia get to relax for once."

_Like anyone can get peace with that irritating ball of energy,_ wormwood thought with a roll of his eyes. He thinks back to when Calista was just a baby, and Cedric was left in charge of her for the first time. The raven had swooped down to get a better look at the infant but was immediately trapped by surprisingly quick reflexes and a strong grip. She had yanked out feathers and had almost gotten herself a pecking if it hadn't been for Cedric's thick robe sleeves being in the way.

_"Relax? With Calista?"_ Cordelia said before letting out a bark of laughter that twinged her brother's ears and practically yanked Wormwood out of his thoughts.

"Oh Ceddy, I imagine Sofia has her hands full even now!" Cordelia looked out the open door and laughed some more at what she saw, "poor dear, I can still see them from here!" They all could, and from what they saw, Sofia was like a ragdoll being dragged behind her energetic little companion.

"If Calista pulls any harder, Sofia's arm might just pop off," Cedric commented.

"we might just end up going to war if she does, hurting the princess of another kingdom, goodness, I can see the uproar now!" Cordelia was joking, but Cedric remembers when Cordelia had turned a pesky prince's skin  _blue_ for pulling her hair.

Both siblings' laughs simmered down to easy chuckles as they watched the girls. Calm and saudade in the way only a brother and sister could achieve while seeing their lost youth in two little kids running hand in hand through a meadow.

He'd never admit it, but Cedric could see himself in Calista's black hair and white bangs, in the eager way she holds the hand of Cordelia's likeness in Sofia's curly brown hair. The picture isn't a perfect match, he knows. he never held Cordelia's hand again after "the incident".

Cedric's gut wrenched, and he felt a sudden urge to get away from the feeling. "Well, I guess we better go too, right Wormwood?"

The raven cawed in agreement, urgent to move since Sofia would be needing him soon. If she was actually planning on keeping her word. He hoped she would.

Cordelia, however, seemed a little upset to have Cedric leave so soon, judging from the slight downturn of her lips. The realization that life was too short must have hit her hard just then because she reached over and pulled her brother into a tight hug before he even made it to the door, a hug which he tentatively returned after the surprise had settled.

Cordelia's head took Cedric's empty shoulder, and she look at the bird beside her on Cedric's other, smiling gently. "Take care of him would you? make sure my dear brother doesn't fall and crush all his ingredients. again." Wormwood gave a short guffaw but quickly hushed himself, but the damage was already done, and Cedric was annoyed by both of them.

He couldn't exactly reprimand his bird without looking crazy, so Cedric settled with arguing with Cordelia, wounded pride against relentless teasing.

Wormwood was no stranger to their fighting, but these last couple months, it's been more playful bullying than genuine loathing from two people who could barely be called brother and sister.

_Sofia's doing,_  he reminded himself, and that familiar bile makes itself known in a small corner of his gut. It might as well be home.

Cordelia ceased her teasing and with one last skin-scathing comment, pushed Cedric out the door, waving him off with the raven in tow.

Cedric was barely over the bridge when he was already going on about what they could find in the meadow, or even in the nearby thicket, possibly the river. Wormwood was barely listening but still cawed along in provoking ways to fuel the  _"conversation"_ , the house and Cordelia were still too close for him to actually speak.  _Speaking of which,_  the raven bothered himself to look back to see if Cordelia was still in the doorway watching them, and his heart came to a sharp stop to see not only her, but Winifred standing beside her.

_Was she watching the whole time?_ Wormwood would have fallen off his perch in fear, but something about the sight before him seemed off.

She wasn't staring him down like she had been doing the whole visit, she wasn't even looking at him, but rather Cedric. She almost looked… sad. The bile in Wormwood from earlier was long gone, but what he felt now looking at the old sorceress wasn't far from it. It was heavier, and far more confusing.

Wormwood tried to ignore the feeling, finding his master's rambling and occasional questions on their inventory to be an enjoyable distraction during the long walk. He'd never admit it, but it felt good to have his knowledge on their shared workspace relied upon. It was a good confidence boost to his already plentiful ego, and if it came from Cedric, all the better.

The walk took long enough, and when they finally reached a particularly rich stretch of the meadow that nestled plenty of plants and fruit trees, Cedric undeniably squealed, "Alright, Wormwood, now the fun begins: herb picking," the man was practically vibrating with excitement.

Wormwood stayed seated on Cedric's shoulder just like he always was whenever they went ingredient collecting, or left the tower, or when he just didn't feel like flapping his wings. His ego could take the hit of admitting to being a bit pampered his whole life. Cedric never minded, and frankly Wormwood never cared if he did, he'd sit where he liked.

As always, Cedric's hands were precise in their pickings, Wormwood could recall how Prisma would rip apart bushes and brambles that she managed to find, hungry and desperate for bitter wild berries to fill her stomach when villages were too far to steal from. _Like a savage animal_.

_no,_  Wormwood scolded himself,  _even a wild animal develops grace appropriate to their surroundings_ , _Prisma was a scavenging rat without a trash can, she was pathetic_. He felt sick to his stomach comparing her calloused scavenging hands to the skillful collection of Cedric's trained ones.

A cozy upbringing in the Mystic Isles proved poor preparation for someone discarded in the Ever Realm. Life in those clouds was so charmed, so harmonic, that existing anywhere else was a death sentence for one of the Isle's natives.

Wormwood couldn't suppress a wicked grin. it was almost upsetting that Prisma didn't meet her end at the avoidable poison of wild fruits, but he could make peace with her living out the rest of her miserable days under heavy security in the Isles' prison.

The satisfaction he got from it was cut short at the realization of _just what_  he was thinking. Was there a time when he wasn't cruel and sadistic to almost sickening degrees? He couldn't remember. His insecurities from last night caught up and threatened to swallow him. The reason for his sadism and bitter sickness wasn't the magic, it wasn't Cedric's influence, it was  _him_. He was in fact... just a bad egg.

A bad egg abandoned in a tree by his own mother that didn't or just  _couldn't_  find love for her last offspring, and flew off. maybe the old bird thought a hard fall from the nest for him would just take care of her problem, or that it would at the very least, be a mercy. Maybe she was right.

Wormwood thoughts threatened to run deeper, but a thankful distraction interrupted any further self-reflection just in time.

It was a pull, an urge to follow an invisible trail beaconed him. The call sounded-  _no_ ,  _felt_  like Sofia, but Sofia wasn't here. Was this the signal? Since when could she summon creatures or people? He settled for asking when he found her.

Cedric seemed occupied with naming off the ingredients as he collected them, a habit of his, and wasn't paying Wormwood any mind. But still the raven knew he could just fly off with ease. Cedric wouldn't take such a scare lightly, especially with the way he's been hovering lately. He needed an excuse.

"You know, Cedric," the Raven began, getting the curious attention of a rather peaceful looking Cedric that he almost regretted disturbing. "I believe the last time we both visited, the surrounding woods had some fungus we could collect now."

It was a lie, but he could easily pass off his return with an empty basket as simply being mistaken.

Cedric seemed unbothered by the vagueness of what the woods had to offer, seeming to take Wormwood's nondescript fungus as something the bird could clearly identify as useful, and thus worth considering.

"Hmm, alright then, let's go get it if you think it's good, which way?."

Like second nature, deceit came easily to Wormwood. "There's no need for you to come with, flying will be much quicker, especially if the fungus is gone by the time I get there. And besides, there's still plenty to be collected here. Stay, I'll go."

Cedric seemed convinced and offered his companion some baskets as he already removed himself from his shoulder. "If you think that would be best, go ahead, then."

another successful subterfuge spread Wormwood's beak into a self satisfied smirk as he began to fly away, but was stopped.

"Don't take too long, alright?" Wormwood groaned, annoyed with the unnecessary mothering. "Oh, and thank you, Wormy."

Cedric went back to his plants, oblivious to the doubletake Wormwood just did at hearing the pet name his master had forgone using since his betrayal. The raven stared after him for a while, curious if he would call attention to the return of such familiarity. He didn't.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Wormwood flew off with the baskets, and the determination of continuing his mission. The satisfaction from earlier was dead to him.


	10. about time

_Where is he?_

Sofia cupped her amulet, turning it over several times to inspect it like something was physically wrong with it, even giving it a tap. Maybe the amulet's summoning abilities only worked for mounts like Minimus? Or maybe  _only_ Minimus?

A small crash from behind the nearest wall, inside the gardening shed caused her to sigh as she tried not to get impatient with the bird.

"Come on, Wormwood…"

" _Come on, yourself! Have you any idea how far away you were?"_

Sofia practically yelped, turning a sharp glare to the raven who had finally decided to show up, and spook her for the second time in just a couple of hours. Unfortunately, her baby face and pout made her stare a little underwhelming, making the Wormwood laugh.

" _Wormwood, would you stop doing that!"_ The raven only smirked in return.

A bit irritated, Sofia decided to let it go in favor of keeping them on track. Wormwood was here, and that meant they could finally leave.

Wormwood watched her disappear around the corner of the rec center, and reappear pulling along a large tarped lump that struggled, whined, and whinnied as it was led out. Whatever was under there was horribly uncoordinated without it's sight. The complaining sounded so familiar to the raven, almost like… oh no.

"Settle down Minimus, I'm taking it off, don't worry."

"Sofia, you know I love helping you with anything, but maybe next time don't shove me in a space  _way_  smaller than my stable."

"I'm sorry, Minimus," Sofia soothed as she pulled the tarp off of her flying steed, "I didn't want you to be found or we might not be able to leave so easily."

"Well… alright, I guess it's fine then. Ready?"

They were both interrupted by a shrieking caw and finally acknowledged their smaller, winged companion who looked less than thrilled.  _"Were taking the diminutive show pony!?_  How far is this place were going to? And how did he  _get here!?_ "

Sofia shushed him, then was quick to reprimand. "Wormwood, that isn't very nice!" she brushed through the horse's mane with her fingers in comfort, making the raven's eyes roll. "It's okay Minimus, I'm sure he didn't mean it, you know how Wormwood can be."

That struck a nerve.

Minimus neighed, then chuckled in that awkward way he never grew out of. "Ah, don't worry about it, princess. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get rid of him."

That struck a bigger nerve. Wormwood didn't get to bite back as he watched Sofia lightly slapped the horse's saddle, probably in a way to say "enough", and mount him.

Ever observant, and ever considerate.

Sofia patted the saddle, and Wormwood flew right over to take a seat, avoiding looking at her. It was humiliating enough to be riding this shrimp of a racing horse.

"Oh, Wormwood, don't forget your baskets!" she reminded, hopping off then back on and tying the items to a loop in Minimus's saddle.

Wormwood had already forgotten about them, but was still curious."I forgot to ask: what do you need the baskets for?"

"For you!" she said as they took off, "We're gonna fill it so you have something to bring back."

"Winifred already has her eyes on me, princess, providing evidence for my alibi is unnecessary."

Sofia laughed. "I know that, I just thought we- or  _you_  could bring him back something, he'll like that."

Wormwood scowled. She of course knew that he and Cedric weren't doing great at the moment. And of course she would try worming her way into helping the two of them  _get along_. She wasn't as slick as she thought she was. Or maybe she wanted him to know to give him the chance to refuse, or to wave in his face the fact that she would help and he couldn't stop her, or for him to know that she  _cared_  about… both… of them. About  _Him_.

"He would… appreciate it." the raven finally mumbled out to her.

_Ever observant, ever considerate._

"Aw look Sofia, he does have a heart!"  _Curse that flying pack mule_.

"Minimus!" She turned to the raven beside her and gave a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, he didn't mean it, Wormwood."

Wormwood was almost insulted. "I'm not a child, princess, I can take a bit of ribbing from a _dwarf among donkeys!"_ that last part was directed right at the steed.

Minimus gasped, and Sofia was ready to play peacemaker, but both princess and raven were surprised by the odd surge of confidence the pegasus's next words had.

"could have fooled me with that child thing, you are pretty small for a raven."

The back and forth went on for a while, and the concern on Sofia's face gave way for amusement. The bickering between the two was so far harmless, and she was slowly getting used to Wormwood's ability to bring out people's argumentative side. It was like a pharamoan.

Or maybe that was just how the Goodwyns were if breakfast was any indication.

After a bit, the raven seemed to have just realized something was missing, and a panic thrummed in his chest.

"Princess Sofia, where is Calista?"

"Oh, don't worry, I asked her to cover for me while I took care of something important. And to not tell anyone about it. She's back at the rec hall."

She was so casual about it while Wormwood felt like he would combust. "What on earth did you tell her?"

She smirked almost mischievously and leaned down to the raven. "I said it was a ' _secret protector mission'_ ," she whispered with a giggle.

Though it was true that everyone had finally been adjusted to Sofia's long kept secret of being a protector, it took quite a while, Sofia on the other hand, was quick to shape her life around the now public knowledge, like it had always been known. She adapted quick.

"And you trust that rambunctious little hellion not to say a word?"

Sofia smiled, but there was something about it that pricked the raven's spine. "Calista likes talking, especially about things that interest her, but she's also a really private person too. After we had gone trick or treating together and my witch friends were being mean to her, she didn't show how it got to her. And after, when we went home, she told Mr. Cedric and Ms. Cordelia about all the good things that happened that night, not the bad.

"So since I told Calista that what I needed to do was a secret, she'll understand it's personal, and won't tell anyone. Especially since I'm supposed to be on a vacation right now."

She was right, Calista didn't like to bring up things that were too personal for herself or anyone else. So secrecy might not be an issue. Still something in what Sofia just said struck a nerve with him and made his blood boil.

His mouth moved on it's own. "And these witch friends of yours, what did they do to her, exactly?"

He really regretted asking because Sofia gave him another sympathetic smile, and if they weren't fifty feet in the air, he was sure she would have gone for a hug.

"Don't worry Wormwood, they just thought she was too little, and tried to send her home, but then they all became friends! Calista's fine."

_There's that cheeriness._  That bright, good natured smile Sofia wore made him want a subject change, immediately.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you really do plan for everything, don't you?"

Sofia scrunched her little nose in confusion.  _"Wrong way?"_

"A compliment."

Wormwood didn't mean for it to be taken as a joke, but Sofia accepted his supposed snark with a light laugh, apparently growing used to his brand of chummery, even Minimus seemed amused.

It reminded him of the day after the Hexley Hall ordeal, back in the tower. Cedric had rushed in excitedly sharing the success of his experimental fertilizer on the garden plants. Wormwood forgot he could understand him and called him an obsessive twit.

He thought Cedric's would get offended, yell, and pout, but to his surprise, Cedric only laughed at the insult and continued raving about the crops to him. How often was it that Wormwood would repeatedly underestimate their friendship to think Cedric would ever take his bullying as more than harmless jabs?

The rest of the ride went by quick, and as they continued on, more of the surrounding forest below was starting to look familiar. Over past the green hills Wormwood could see the silhouette of a much larger structure. The castle.

"Were going back… here," Wormwood finally said, Sofia didn't exactly inform him of where they were going, and he had forgotten to ask along the way, but whatever she had in store, he felt like wouldn't be so easy to get to. "What exactly is here that can help us?"

When Sofia didn't immediately answer, he looked back to her in confusion to see a devious little smile paint her face and thought she took after Cedric's habits a little too much. She finally looked down at him, and that sly look cleared away like it had never been there to begin with.

"Did you ever wonder how I became a protector in the first place?"


	11. inconspicuous

They passed over Dunwiddie, and stayed low while under the lengthy bridge to the castle gates. Wormwood understood high caution when they were at the Meadow, but why the princess felt the need to dodge eyes here with no old sorceress to be wary off eluded him. a lot of the things Sofia did did that.

Sofia stayed close to the rocky outcropping of the island, rounding it until they reached the back of the castle where the bay window of her bedroom was.

"Alright, Minimus, hold as still as you can." Sofia instructed as she stood up on the back of the pegasus with no warning.

"Wait wha- what are you-" Minimus wobbled and sucked in a breath to quickly steady himself when he felt Sofia's two feet press into his saddled back. He got the clear idea of what she was doing and looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack while he rose the girl closer to the window doors. From the look of it this was something normal for the two, Wormwood however, wasn't used to Sofia's saddle tricks and panicked immediately.

Shouting would startle her, so he settled for a harsh whisper right next to her face.  _"What on earth do you think you're doing, you'll get yourself killed, you idiot!"_

Sofia remained unfazed, and continued to try threading her fingers through the crease between both doors, her balance becoming more erratic the longer she tried. Wormwood felt his heart banging in his chest, and had to find a way to prevent Sofia from plummeting to her untimely death.

The raven  _tsk'd_  and swatted away Sofia's hands from the window telling her to move over and to _sit down for goodness sake!_ His thin talons slipped into the crack and latched onto the inner woodwork of one frame, pulling it open for the princess to jump inside.

"Thanks Wormwood! Alright Minimus, you can go back to the stable now, I'll call you when I'm ready to leave." the pegasus huffed out an  _oh good,_  and flew down on frantic wings away from the others.

Unlike Minimus, Wormwood felt no relief and tried his best to swallow his ragged breath. His anxiety died down, and left anger to boil in its spot. Sofia seemed to notice, and showed her worry.

"Wormwood, are you alri-?"

" _No of course I'm not alright! You could have been a bloody puddle on the grass, honestly do you have a death wish!?"_

Sofia's brows knit together, and wormwood thought he might've gone too far this time. Before he could backpedal, Sofia spoke. "I'm sorry, Wormwood. I didn't mean to scare you like that. I forgot you're not used to adventures."

The raven felt like someone had banged a pot over his skull with a cooking spoon. Why did every other word this girl said leave him feeling like an idiot?

" _Why on earth are you apologizing to me!? You could have fallen!"_

Sofia stood from the window seat, and with a smile, winked at the black bird. "Oh, you wouldn't have let me fall!"

Said bird shot her an incredulous look. "And you believe that  _because…?"_

"Because you didn't."

_Oh, this girl was infuriating._ Wormwood would have thrown a fit, but groaning from behind the bed called both of their attentions.

Wormwood was in panic mode again, they needed to hide!

"Ugh, can't a bunny get some decent sleep for once?"

And he was annoyed again. Wormwood let out a groan of his own, already exhausted before even talking to the lazy lagomorph. As expected, Sofia was overjoyed to see her rabbit friend.

" _Clover!"_

" _Sofia!"_

" _Ugh!"_

Wormwood turned away from the two embracing friends like watching them would cause him to vomit. The two of them seemed to forget he was there anyway.

"What's he doing here?"

_seemed._

Wormwood could feel the venom like it had been spit on him with the question, and he was sure Sofia heard it too. The raven couldn't stand to watch their loving hug, but confrontation was something he was always ready to face head on. His beady eyes stared down the rabbit, and he smirked in that wicked little way that he knew annoyed him.

"Isn't it obvious? The princess is my prisoner and she's taking me to the castle jewel room. Simply  _being_ evil doesn't fund world conquest after all."

Clover bit back with the same amount of contempt from earlier, moving in front of Sofia like he expected the raven to spring on her. If he wanted to hurt Sofia, he would have just let her fall. But still, the rabbit's action made his stomach turn with bile like thinking about being left in the nest did.

"Sure, who knows how many people you've thought about backstabbing your master for on the way here. Not that I can blame you, the guy's a joke!"

" _Why you insufferable little-!"_

" _Enough!"_

Sofia pulled them both from their arguing, her stern face was nothing like the one she cast the raven before at the meadow when he had made her jump. She looked like Miranda when the woman was pushed to her limit, hand on her hips and everything. Wormwood briefly wondered if he shared any looks from his own parents, then pushed those thoughts down where they belonged.

Sofia sighed, and sat on the bed, Clover quickly following her up.

"Hey, I'm sorry, Sof. but what are you doing here? I thought you went on a trip with Cedric and  _cranky-bird_ over here."

Wormwood rolled his eyes and flew off to perch himself on the wardrobe in the corner, choosing to wait for this whole conversation to be done.

"I am! But something's come up and me and  _wormwood,"_  she emphasized, "really needed something from the secret library, so we were hoping you could help us with something?"

_Secret library?_ Wormwood's never heard that before.  _Just how many secrets was the princess keeping in her little head?_

Clover mulled it over, "well alright, just what did you need?"

Sofia produced the baskets Wormwood had forgotten about again, and handed them to the rabbit. "We just need you to fill these up with some-  _what was it you needed again, Wormwood?"_

The raven peered down at her expectant eyes, then at the rabbit's glare, then turned away. "Fungus. Lichen, to be exact. There's plenty to be found in the forest around Dunwiddie, on the rocks by rivers. It's green, and looks a bit like small bramble. Even you can't mess that up."

"We need it for Mr. Cedric," Sofia threw in.

"Yeah, don't worry, me and the others will get it, plenty," Clover replied, hopping down from the bed with the baskets in tow. "You two do what you need to, it'll be here when you get back."

"Thanks Clover, I can always count on you."

"Don't sweat it princess," was the last thing the rabbit said before disappearing behind the small hole at the foot of the wall.

"Alright, you ready to go?" Sofia asked, motioning for him to follow her to the doors of the bedroom. He flew down and sighed, feeling the exhaustion now that the rabbit was gone.

"Have been for the last ten minutes, but let's get on with it, shall we? Where to?"

"Normally I'd shrink down and go through the little hole that Clover just went through, but I don't think you'll fit."

" _You're telling me that overstuffed hare is slimmer than me?"_

Sofia shrugged. "It's mostly fluff."

Sofia noiselessly slid open the first doors to her room, stepping into the vestibule. "We'll have to go through Amber's room, there's another passage into the canal there. Thankfully it's right next door."

Wormwood perched on her shoulder, figuring flying wasn't the quietest way to get around. "Why  _are_  we sneaking around, Winifred isn't here."

"If someone like mom or dad sees us, they'll want to know why we're here when were supposed to be at Mystic Meadows. Who knows how long that's gonna hold us up, especially if they try to take us back themselves, and by then, Winifred will know we're working together."

She was a clever girl, that much was undeniable. "Again, you really do think of everything, don't you?"

Sofia gave the raven on her shoulder a sincere smile. "Can I take that one the _'wrong way'_?"

"You may."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if they couldn't get the window open, plan B was just to throw a brick at it.


	12. the secret place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they're home, but can they get under their home?

The hallway was empty as far as Sofia and Wormwood could see. All the servants must have already been through here.

The princess made light steps to her sister’s room, barely cracking open the door a peek. She waved two fingers in front of the raven’s face, then pointed them to the opening; an instruction to look through, and Wormwood got it. His head was small enough to fit, and after a short look over, he sighed, and nodded his head at Sofia. Amber was inside.

It made things more difficult, but Sofia was no stranger to obstacles. She needed a way to get Amber out without letting her know she was there.

Wormwood looked around for something that struck the blonde princess’s fancy. There was a vase of flowers on the table against the opposing wall, and several others lining the hallway. An idea struck.

He flew off Sofia’s shoulder, and onto the table, plucking petal after petal till the stems were bare, and moving onto other nearby bouquets, making sure he had plenty. Once all the hall plants had been cleaned, the raven sprinkled them down in front of Amber’s door, making a path to the stairwell nearby, going down and further through the palace corridors till he ran out. That completed, he flew back over and perched on the crown molding above the entrance to Amber’s room, clearly expectant of Sofia to play her part now.

She understood. Figuring it was what Wormwood wanted her to do, she knocked on Amber’s door before shrinking down to hide behind the thick frame.

Amber didn’t take long in asking who was there and opening up. She looked around, confused, then down and saw the various petals at her feet and absolutely squealed.

_ “Flowers? For me? Oh I bet this is the surprise daddy was talking about! _ ” Amber took off after the petal trail, ranting about a new telescope or a unicorn, and left the door wide open.

Sofia was already in the room when Amber’s head disappeared down the steps. She grew back to her normal size and hoped to find the passage before Amber came back disappointed.

Sofia’s eyes were everywhere, scanning the area like a machine on autopilot. Amber said a pressable tile on the wall was how she found the underground canal... and  _ there it was! _ Right by her bed. 

“Over here, Wormwood,” Sofia whispered and pressed the square once he was seated on her shoulder again.

The wall groaned from heavy stone scraping heavy stone in it’s spin and closed back up with a hard click. That, along with Sofia’s surprised gasp was sure to get _ someone’s _ attention, but the lack of hurried footsteps charging into the room was evidence enough that the hallway was still empty, and that Amber was still following the petals.

Sofia breathed a sigh in relief, and continued down the nearby staircase to the stone boardwalk where the boat’s arrival was signaled by her amulet.

“So it calls animals and boats. Interesting.” Wormwood settled into the dinghy, followed by Sofia and her giggles. “Or maybe it just summons different modes of transport whether they’re alive or not.”

“In that case, does that mean I can ride you?”

“Certainly not!”

The ride started, smooth as ever, but they were in a rush, and one look at Wormwood’s fidgets told her he wasn’t a fan of the current pace.

Sofia held her amulet out to the front of the boat, a bit unsure if the action really did anything. “Um, can this gondola go a bit faster please! We don’t have a lot of time.”

And so it did. Ihe boat rocked them both back slightly from the increased speed, the princess mementos that lined the stream remained understandingly still till the boat reached the other stone dock at the end of the tunnel.

_ “Finally.” _ The raven already had his fill of time wastes.

Sofia dug around in a compartment in the boat and fished out a small blue book, then joined Wormwood at the door. “Don’t worry,” she said, “the library’s just behind this door.”

“So what exactly is this  _ ‘secret library’ _ that you and the overfed rodent were whispering about?”

Sofia was hit with realization and guilt. She kept everyone on a need-to-know basis so often, she overlooked the effect it would have on Wormwood’s already deep self loathing.

“Sorry, Wormwood, it’s not you, I’m just so used to keeping things secret I forgot we were partners in this.” She knew the apology wouldn’t be enough to soothe any hurt feelings she might’ve caused, Wormwood was notoriously stubborn, especially when it came to holding onto toxic feelings. “I promise, from here on out, no more withholding anything. Deal?”

Sometimes it really was hard for Wormwood to wrap his head around the cotrandictary workings of her mind. Sofia was cunning, careful, even dangerously manipulative when she wanted to be. She was all those things  _ and still _ a little girl who took promises seriously. He sometimes wondered if she was ever fully aware of the more amoral aspects of her personality. He’s watched her trick and pull Cedric into helping her many times with hardly more than a smile on her face. How genuine those smiles were is what sometimes unnerved the raven.

“Fine,” he huffed out, “it’s a deal.” Sofia smiled, and it crawled up his spine.

Sofia inserted the book into the slot, the large circular doorway illuminating a brilliant blue before it spun away to allow access. Sofia could only hope that the magic within would still work without the large contraption that always stood at the center, she hadn’t really been to the library since the day Vor took control of the castle, too much to put back together now that she was gone. The bench was still there, and maybe that was enough.

Sofia sat down with enough room for the raven to take a seat beside her, and both looked up to take in the great curiosity that was the library, for the first time ever for Wormwood, and after what felt like so long to the current storykeeper. Sofia was always amazed with the seemingly-  _ no _ ,  _ definitely  _ endless collection of stories, while her feathered companion merely whistled at the high shelves.

“That’s a… lot of books.” Sofia chortled, letting Wormwood’s awkwardness lift her insides from the pit they were sinking to.

“Yeah,” Sofia sighed, “ it is.”

“And your job is  _ to…?  _ Keep them maintained? _ ” _

“No and yes. I’m the storykeeper, it’s my job to finish them and give them a happy ending.”

Sofia heard the raven sputter, her eyes still on the climbing shelves.  _ “All of them? _ That’s a bit of a tall order, even for  _ you.” _

Sofia huffed a light laugh at the implied respect and concern that last comment held. “No,” she said, “not all of them.” she remembered once during one of Tilly’s visits, her aunt wanted to accompany her on another adventure to which Sofia had happily agreed. They were all set to head out when a book on one of the lower shelves had caught Sofia’s eye. It had glowed, blinked like it was struggling to stay lit, then stopped altogether before turning to dust that flew to the top of the library and vanished.

Sofia had no idea what had just happened, but aunt Tilly did. A book disappearing into nothingness was the unfortunate end of whosoever life it was that the story belonged to. There was no way to finish the story, and thus the book was gone. Tilly had offered her a moment if she’d wanted it, but Sofia declined, the new information urging her not to waste time and watch more books burn away.

She had had trouble getting comfortable in her bed that night. The reality that every story in the library wasn’t just a story anymore but  _ a life _ , waiting to be complete or waiting for death tormented her with guilt. And when she _ had _ finally found sleep, she dreamt of helplessly watching the ash of every book funnel out the tree top and fill the sky like a fog.

“Just… as many as I can get to,” she whispered. her anguish must have been obvious because she felt Wormwood press into her side the same way he did with Cedric in his moments of distress. It was a small gesture, but an intimate one, and an appreciated one.

Sofia sat upright, and gave Wormwood a smile to let him know her moment of pain had passed. She rubbed her hands together, and raised her voice when she called to the library’s magic.

_ “What do you know about Winifred the Wise?” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like the thought of the books just fucking dusting when someone dies a lot


	13. that's a lot of books

Light enveloped the lower shelves in the same magical blue that earlier allowed them access through the library door. It ran through the shelves, and rose in a fast spiral to whatever book it needed to find. Hope welled in Sofia’s chest, but before it could engulf, the magical light stopped, flickered and waned before dying out.

The library went silent. The normally vocal magic that lived here gave no more presence, not even the fading echos of Sofia’s last words filled the hollow tree.

_“No-_ _no, what happened?”_ panic took over Sofia, along with the not forgotten nightmare of the books burning to ash.

“From the look on your face, I take it what you were hoping for didn’t happen.” Sofia stood, ignoring Wormwood’s sneering.  _ The magic of the secret library disappearing with its creator was a possibility, _ she tried to reason with herself, one that put a damper on both her plans and heart, but dependence on a single method was never Sofia’s way, nor was giving up at the first roadblock.

She stood tall, and eyed the length of shelves from her spot on the ground. “Please,” she begged, “if there is any magic left here, if you know anything about Winifred, I need it.”

Growing tired with the lack of progress, Wormwood flew off to look around on his own while Sofia busied herself with pleading. He flew up to one of the higher entrances of the library and should have felt a draft come in, but he didn’t expect to. Since they arrived, a sensation of warmth had nestled itself around him like a second layer of skin, comfortable and relaxing. Sofia must have gotten used to it, or didn’t even notice it to begin with, but Wormwood  _ knew _ magic, he lived, breathed, and studied it, hell it ran through his  _ veins,  _ and he was understandably on high alert, unwilling to let it soothe him.

Despite Sofia’s worries, there was magic here still. Strong magic. An intense atmosphere as condensed as this was probably just a byproduct of the library’s construction, he told himself, and had since relaxed. He couldn’t be blamed for being cautious. Wormwood was always a very reserved bird, and experience taught him to let Sofia figure things out on her own, but a look below at her demanded he keep the deal they made just before entering. He  _ tsked,  _ and flew down to the girl who looked about ready to give up on the place.

“Sorry Wormwood,” her expression looked sincere, “it looks like there’s no more magic here.” she sighed, and from the look on her face there was something she was holding back. “I promised I’d tell you everything, but there’s so much about this place, and we don’t have a lot of time but you should know-”

“There’s still magic here.”

Sofia staggered. “What? How? I’ve been asking for a book and-”

“You’ve been asking for a book about Winifred, and just like the stubborn old woman herself, this library isn’t just going to give away her secrets.” he looked up, and felt dazed at the endless supply of literature. “If it has any at all. Winifred avoided being in any and all form of recorded text, but this library is mystical from skin to heart, and the book are nothing more than illusions, windows into other people’s lives, not actual existing copies.”

Sofia lit up. “So you think there’s actually something here about Winifred?”

“Undoubtedly. Not even she can dodge records that exist outside the written works of man. The only question is how to find it.” wormwood busied himself with possible questions, alternatives to the one Sofia had asked earlier. They could ask for all the books on powerful sorcerers,  _ sorceress’s? _ Maybe start with the oldest books. Sofia watched him pace, deep in thought, then stepped away to do her own thinking as she examined the shelves.  _ The story they want is here, but it won’t come down to them, it won’t even let the magic of the library touch it. No doubt it’s been protected from a million different versions of the same question. maybe... _

Sofia sported a clever grin on her face, then eyed a still pacing Wormwood as she held her amulet close, “I wish I was a raven.” Sofia was immediately transformed, the loud  _ pop _ that accompanied it finally drew Wormwood’s attention to see her flying, already adjusted to her wings.

_ “What are you-?” _

_ “Follow me!”  _ sofia took off, leaving Wormwood with no choice but to follow her up. She wasn’t going to tell him what she was planning, but he figured he’d see soon enough. Plus, he couldn’t really take a love for the dramatic as a violation of their promise. When the time came, he knew he’d be guilty of it too.

As he guessed, Sofia led him to the top of the library, where she hovered above the levels of the highest shelves, still inside enough to feel the warmth. For a moment she just stayed there,  _ probably surveying her plan,  _ he figured, and let her be.

_ “Secret library,”  _ she yelled at the top of her lungs, grinding her partner’s ears, then threw her wings wide open,  _ “give me all your stories!” _

True to Wormwood’s assessment, the magic was still alive, and swallowed the shelves in illumination, upsurging to the two birds at the top. The walls rumbled, then every book in every frame was pulled to the center, bumping and bouncing into one another with little room for them all at once, with more still gathering. Immediately, the giant mass struggling to hold itself suspended rattled and fell apart clattering to the library floor in heaps, stacking and stacking up to the second story. It almost sounded like rain.

“That’s certainly… one way,” Wormwood muttered, a bit appalled at the careless clearing. He was an animal-helper, a bird of order and organization, if the haphazard arrangement of the library already bothered him, it could be forgiven if he admitted he was a little sickened at this display. He shook away the feeling, coming to his senses.  _ “Wait, how on earth does this help us!?”  _

Sofia giggled at his distorted ranting and waved a wing at him to follow her descent down. She was looking around, carefully surveying every shelf, and Wormwood could guess what the entire debacle was for. “Why dig through dirt to find a worm...” she said as she spied her prize and landed at the shelf that contained it. “When you can just turn over a rock.” While every other story laid in a mess on the library’s floor, there on the shelf, stood a perfectly upright book leaning against nothing.

Wormwood was dumbfounded. “How on  _ earth _ did you know that would work?”

Sofia smiled that simple, unassuming smile she smiled to con people out of their wits. “I didn’t,” she said amicably enough.  _ “But... how does a sorcerer keep something hidden from magic?” _ she encouraged.

“With their own magic…” Wormwood answered, still reeling.

_ “Bingo!”  _ Sofia pulled the book easy from the wall, giving it a look over.

Wormwood felt a rush of excitement. “The library was incapable of selecting the book, effectively  _ hiding _ it among it’s collection, but everything around the story was perfectly susceptible to it’s will! _ ” _

Sofia caught his enthusiasm, laughing along. “With all that  _ magical  _ protection, Winifred looked over keeping it physically hidden!” they would have kept laughing had Sofia not remembered that they had somewhere to be, and not a lot of time left. “Sorry to cut it short, Wormwood, but we really gotta get back now. Let’s get back to the boat.”

They made for the stairs, but a look down at the incredible pile of books still stuck on the floor, blocking the exit put a damper on those plans. The library couldn’t hold all these books together at one time, expecting it to neatly put them all back on a whim was out of the question.

Beside her, Sofia heard a drawn out, pained groan that was milked for all it was worth. Once he finished, Wormwood dragged a wing down his beak and sighed.  _ “Get on...” _

Sofia gave him an apologetic smile, genuinely sorry for the deep laceration his pride was taking for this and shrunk down, getting on his back as allowed.

“You tell no one about this.”

Sofia fought her giggles. “promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sofia riding wormwood wasn't planned but im happy its here  
> its just a stupid cute idea, and it humiliates that birdie bastard so thats just a bonus


	14. a letdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> feelings are hurt

“Got it!” Sofia exclaimed once her shrunken fingers latched onto the gap inbetween the window doors. Eager for a break, Wormwood charged in and  _ flopped  _ down onto the seat, heaving, and letting Sofia tumble off him with a small  _ oof _ .

Not bothered by the fall, Sofia didn’t hesitate to place a gentle hand on the back of Wormwood’s heaving neck. “Sorry you had to carry me,” she soothed, “are you alright?” out of breath, Wormwood found enough air to mumbled something, barely moving his beak, and got a  _ “what?”  _ from Sofia that suggested he actually look at her.

“I said…  _ shut up.” _

Sofia grimaced, and gave him a pinch where her hand was, making him jump a bit, shooting her a look.

“Ya know, if the animal helper thing doesn’t work out- _ again, _ you could always offer yourself as a carriage service.”

They both looked to the center of the room to see Clover and the birds Robin and Mia, waiting patiently to be noticed, with baskets full of fungus and moss at their feet. There was no question who the insult came from, but as she usually does to avoid conflict, Sofia ignored it, and changed the subject.

“Wow guys, you picked all this yourselves?” the rabbit seemed to follow along, none the wiser to Sofia’s common tactics, enjoying the flattery instead.

“Yeah, it was nothin’ Sof, the forest was full of all this gross stuff,” the rabbit accentuated his disgust by lifting some of the basket’s contents and watching it drip and string back down.

“if you ask for it,” Mia chimed in, “we’ll get it for you!”

“No trouble,” the red one threw in.

If Wormwood had the energy, he would’ve hurled. Such saccharine displays always made him cringe. As doting a master Cedric was, he would hardly go for such affection the way these  _ best friends _ did with all their mushy sentiments.

Sofia cupped her hands, and the action confused Wormwood. Then unhesitantly, the little, ditzy, blue one jumped into it, nestling comfortably like the action was a casual occurrence. Cedric hadn’t held him like that since he was a fledgling, and watching the blue one- _ who was very obviously not, _ be cradled like she was, turned his stomach with chagrin and something else he pushed away.

“As loving a display as this is, don’t you think we have something important to be getting back to, _ princess?”  _ mushiness successfully interrupted, Wormwood revelled in the glares he got from the other animals for the indifferent acknowledgement of their precious human. The rabbit looked the most willing to take the bait, and almost did, but a stroke of Sofia’s hand through his fur.

Wormwood tsked at the deprivation, and was ready to complain as condescendingly as possible but Sofia’s eyes were on him, sympathetic and despondent in their intensity. She reminded him of someone, and he didn’t like the feelings that involuntarily responded to her gaze so he shut them out too, and looked away, grumbling.

Sofia sighed, and it sounded tired. In a heartbeat her smile was back on, and she stood. “He’s right, let’s get these loaded onto Minimus,” she said, gesturing to the baskets. Her animal friends followed her instruction the second the pegasus appeared at the window. Giving the raven cold shoulders despite being in the way.

Wormwood stayed put, but his eyes wandered around the scarcely decorated bedroom, looking for something of interest. He landed two identical medals hung on the wall over the mantle, and recognized them as the reward for that alchemy class project. She had practically stormed into the Workshop, eager to tell Cedric who almost teared up at the news, but what puzzled him at the moment was  _ why  _ there were two, and why one smaller than the other.

Sofia noticed his curiosity, and took the opportunity that came with it.

“Those are from alchemy class,” she needlessly reminded. “When me and Clover won, he got a medal too.” behind them, Wormwood heard the patter of paws stop dead in their tracks, listening. “You know, we never did say thank you for the tutoring.”

Clover went back to packing in urgency, and the raven himself didn’t dislike that approach to the awkwardness set up for them.

“Alright, Sof,” Clover piped up too cheerfully, “baskets are packed and you’re good to go!”

“Great!” Sofia stood up, acting oblivious to her word’s effect on them. “Thanks Clover, we really appreciate it. _ Right Wormwood?”  _ the stress of his name made the raven cringe, fully aware of her dragging him into her niceties like she does with Cedric. He would have been content to just ignore her and move on, but the glimmer of the medals in the sunlight grabbed his eye like the simple bird he was, and forced an effort of sincerity out of him.

“Yes…,” he strained, awkward and out of his comfort zone. “It is greatly appre-”

“Save it,” Clover hissed, with enough venom for it to actually work on the raven. “I did this for Sofia. Not _ you _ .”

Sofia didn’t reprimand the slight, and only watched as her rabbit friend to storm off though the hole in the wall.

“Uh… we should probably go too,” the robin whittled out stiffly in the thick air, “see you, Sofia.” they took off, not staying a second longer to be waved off.

With nothing left to accomplish there, Sofia mounted Minimus, Wormwood behind her, backs facing each other in the tense air followed them out of the room. It was heavy and made it hard for Sofia to scramble together some way to salvage the left behind emotions.

The medals came to mind, and what praise could be offered had to do.

“We couldn’t have won the contest without you and your method for remembering. I’m sure it wasn’t easy to tutor someone who doesn’t listen well, but you did a great job, and it actually got through to Clover.”

The compliment was heard, but ignored. Damaged pride needed time to heal, and Wormwood was going to brood over the rabbit’s spite until it ran its course, and when Sofia didn’t continue, Wormwood assumed she accepted that.

“He wanted to show you, you know.”

Wormwood lifted his head, shocked by his own curiosity, and Sofia’s tone. It was somber, very quiet, almost intimate, like she was telling him a secret, and she probably was.

“He wanted to show you the medal he won from using your tutoring, it was all he could talk about on the way back to the castle.” Sofia coughed and in a poor imitation of the rabbit yelled out,  _ “yo, Sof, I can’t wait to rub this in bird-breath’s face, it’ll be great!” _ Wormwood almost choked when he heard  _ it,  _ and Minimus belt out a laugh and compliment the display, the raven had honestly forgotten he was there. Regardless, Sofia continued.

“But when we got home, and were right outside the door to the workshop, he… got cold feet, and made up some bad excuses why he had other things to do, and for me to go ahead and show Mr. Cedric by myself.”

Something changed around Sofia’s words, and the tense air was gone, leaving only open honesty. “I always told him he’d get other chances to show you,” she went on, “that he had all the time in the world,  _ that you weren’t going anywhere.” _ Wormwood knew what came next. “And when you did leave, he was… angry, when you came back he was angry, when you stayed… he didn’t know how to feel.”

The raven knew what she meant, Clover had trapped him in a tiny cage when they ran into each other in the village that day. The anger was evident, but how personal it ran was a surprise. And now there was no denying that the rabbit had felt some form of friendship with him to  _ feel something _ at his departure, to feel betrayed as well. Now there was no denying that Wormwood had hurt multiple people with that selfish stunt. Not just Cedric. Cedric.

The raven’s tongue felt heavy and too large for his beak suddenly, and his next words almost hurt to get out, but they needed to be said. Needed to be answered.

_ “I let him down didn’t I?” _

Wormwood’s voice was hoarse, but Sofia heard him. He wasn’t talking about Clover anymore. Like everything with Wormwood, it cycled back to who it always cycled back to. And once again, Sofia was left to carefully plan her next words to salvage the emotions of someone much older than her, someone who should know better but that she couldn’t fault for not. Falling into the somber mood with her bird companion, she told him what he needed to hear, something that was enough. For both of them.

“You did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooooooooooooooh shes back


	15. the return

Sofia had been gracious enough to drop Wormwood off as close to Cedric as she could to save him the flight back from the rec center with talons full of moss filled baskets. Light as they were, Wormwood wasn’t used to labor. The only real effort he gave was in arranging and organizing the workshop’s potions and components, and he considered that more therapeutic than actual work.

Cedric was just up ahead, still talking to himself and apparently taking his sweet time, as usual. He didn’t even notice Wormwood until the baskets were dropped at his feet and Wormwood with them, too spent to lift himself to his master’s shoulder.

“Oh, Wormwood, your back.”

The passive acknowledgement made the raven want to nip at the closest finger, which unfortunately, was still too far away. He’d do it later.

Cedric finally looked at the baskets Wormwood brought back, and was a bit shocked to find them so filled, it was normal for the raven to come back with a few pinches of herbs at most in a list of at least ten different ingredients, it was the reason Cedric stopped letting him go by himself.

“Wormwood, did you... get all of this by  _ yourself?”  _ The raven huffed, and managed a single nod, exhaustion came in handy when you didn’t want to answer, and simple  _caws_ were no good anymore. Cedric stifled a chuff, and lent down to shuffle through the collection, there was plenty of moss, more than he would ever need, and not even a rag underneath to fluff up the amount. Maybe Cordelia would want some. Their parents too.

Cedric dusted off his hands and offered his elbow, rested enough, Wormwood jumped on as his master stood. “No wonder you took so long, those baskets must have been dreadful to carry all the way back over here.” The raven was in no hurry to correct his master’s misjudgement, or the praise that came with it, rather, he lifted his head, and soaked it in.

And thank goodness he didn’t because Cedric then pulled a small pouch from his robe, and lifted it to eye level with his raven. “It’s actually a good thing you took so long, these took forever to find.” He opened the pouch and poured a collection of raspberries into his palm. Quite exhausted from the morning’s events, Wormwood eagerly pecked at them, making simple sounds of acknowledgement at his still talking master who gathered his earnings and made to head back to the cottage.

“Honestly, I thought finding berries and fruit would be easy in a retirement home, but of course they’re all sorcerers so the entire rec center garden was filled to the brim with things that could kill you if you inhaled for too long.”

_ The rec center?  _ The sentence tossed around in Wormwood’s head, trying to find the significance.

_ “And everything has signs!”  _ The frustrated sorcerer went on. “ _ This belongs to him, and that belongs to her.  _ This one lady gave me the stink eye when i got too close to her pots, _ like I’d try and steal your wilting nightshade, woman! She cultivated the soil completely wrong too!”  _

Wormwood smirked into his treat at Cedric’s huffing as he settled down after finally having someone to rant off to, his demeanor calming enough to walk without jostling the baskets, or the raven with a mouthful of berries on his arm.

“I saw Calista there too, dancing with some of the sorcerers. No sign of Sofia though.” Wormwood almost choked, wings flapping sporadically to keep his balance, then thought falling would have been better when Cedric stared him square with raised eyebrows.

_ “What’s wrong? Is it the berries?” Oh thank god, an opening. _

“Yes, unfortunately.” the raven’s words were strained and raspy, and he was pretty sure juice was dripping down his beak as well as some tears. “ I think they weren’t quite ready yet, they had a bit of sourness to them. Quite awful.”

Cedric slipped out an “Oh,” and apologized, stuffing the berries back into the pouch and into his pocket, away from the ravens too heartbroken expression at his loss. Sofia owed him.

“Anyway,” Cedric continued, unbothered, “I didn’t see her at all, not when I walked in or walked out. Calista said she would be right back, and I was a little concerned, I hope I’m just overthinking-”

_ “Yes!”  _ Wormwood shouted in Cedric’s face, making the sorcerer pause and stumble. “Er- I mean, of course you are, Sofia’s a resilient girl, she can take care of herself in a peaceful retirement home of all places. It’s nothing to worry about.” wormwood could feel sweat taking the place of the berry and tears on his face.

Cedric took it in stride. “Well of course she would be fine, I’ve seen the girl weaponize bouncing, but she did promise to keep Calista safe.”

“Another little girl who has little to fear from elderly wizards who bake cookies and dance,” Wormwood eased into the lies, “besides, I’m sure sofia’s already back with her.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Cedric sighed, “though maybe I should go check on them, just to be sure.” the raven’s feathers wound themselves back in knots, he needed an out, or a giant sign that read “ _ stop” _ so he could hit Cedric with it.

_ “What are you, a doting mother? Give her some space for once.” _ That stopped Cedric dead.

_ “Excuse me?”  _ Cedric was looking at him again with scrutinizing eyes that he only ever made once and that was when his voice was a cold hiss at Roland, a stare that made that same something tie up in Wormwood’s stomach like it did over Sofia’s words earlier. Over clover, over his master, his friend.

Sofia could have very well been at the rec center by now, or at the cottage, or some other place hiding the book. Wherever she was, survival instinct demanded Wormwood stay as far away from Sofia as to not be found out, so she wouldn’t be found out. He was cornered, he was panicking, and he struck when Cedric continued his pacing at his lack of an answer.

_ “Sofia’s perfectly capable of being on her own for a few minutes, you don’t need to hover over her like your mother did to you!”  _ the mother line made Cedric flinch, it made Wormwood flinch and his stomach tighten, but the words poured out, and they didn’t stop. _ “If only Winifred let you breathe every now and then, you wouldn’t need constant validation from an eight year old, or throw thirty year complexes at her!” _

Cedric looked ready to boil, and wormwood wanted to shut up, but the frazzled nerves of his brain made him see logic in his insults, that they were keeping Cedric frozen and from getting near the rec center and Sofia.

_ “god forbid its bathroom troubles, and the last thing she needs is her sorcerer waiting at the door and knocking. Just give her room and let her have fun for once in her life without butting in to impede her!” _

That last one seemed to cut deep because that intense glare was gone, and Wormwood was staring dumbfound back at widened irises, hurt and confused. The sorcerer’s shoulders dropped, and with furrowed brows he looked to the distance where the rec center was, past the hill, like he was contemplating continuing. Wormwood knew he wouldn’t, when pushed too far, Cedric caved. At Hexley Hall he would lock himself in his room for the entire weekend and not come out, as an adult he traded his dorm for the workshop. The raven watched the hurt slip away into acceptance, and Cedric continued on towards the cottage to wait for the afternoon to come. For Sofia.

The dip in his stomach dragged Wormwood down, and he hovered low over the grass, tailing the shadow on it, because looking straight ahead meant looking right at Cedric’s back, and the raven did plenty of that caged in the king’s dungeon.

When Cedric came down to the dungeon for the first time after that day, he came skinned and bruised, his grip on the bars left his knuckles white. Wormwood wanted to hear Cedric yell, curse, and spit insults at him, he wanted the sickening raw emotions that betrayal left naked and sensitive to hit him in the form of Cedric’s screams, but he got none of it. Cedric let the bars go, he turned around.

He left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys i am really sad  
> wormwood broke my heart in season four so this is how i get revenge
> 
> next is the magic show chapter and its not too crazy, just some real sad boi hours
> 
> the goodwyns are bad at communication take this family away from one another  
> sofia's gotta host like a family therapy session for these people yikes  
> "these people", i say that as if shes not one of them, newsflash sofia your already on the wassailia card


	16. nothing to be proud of, not that i've ever been

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> real sad bird hours guys

The living room was uncomfortably quiet to Wormwood.

Cordelia was in the kitchen with Winifred once again preparing some lunch and snacks for the magic show, so the only one here was Goodwyn, sitting in his armchair and reading a book. Apart from some fidgets here and there, the old man didn't draw much attention to himself. He seemed fine for someone under a mind control spell.

Wormwood tried not to focus on him too much, lest Winifred walk in, or the old man  _himself_  try to feed him a cracker again. Besides, it was either this or go find Cedric, and that was a can of worms the raven would put off till death if possible, thank you.

Maybe this was just how things were between them now, without Sofia as a buffer, constantly trying to keep the peace between them.

Some nights in the tower, when the window latch wouldn't be closed right, and the wind blew it open, he wondered if it was a sign, to leave, to be free. How selfish those thoughts were compared to now where his hesitation to stay was dominated by Cedric's wellbeing, by Sofia's words, by the rabbit's surprises.

This barrage of emotions, mixed with his stubborn refusal to change allowed him to leave once before, why was it so much harder now? What changed?

He was interrupted by the front door; Sofia and Calista were back, and Cordelia was quick to emerge from the dining room with a warm welcome and an invitation to some early treats in the kitchen, to which Calista happily accepted.

Wormwood ignored them, and looked to the space in front of the living area, where the magic show was supposed to take place. There was no setup, not even a podium or stage, meaning Cedric was still very much moping.

A part of him really wanted to blame Sofia, to cast off all responsibility for the things he didn't mean to say in his haste to keep her hidden. But he knew none of it was on her. She had helped him, she  _kept_  helping him, and in return he gave her petty jealousy and jabs that he rarely ever felt sorry for.

"Hey Wormwood, do you know where Mr. Cedric is, our show is starting soon." Sofia snuck up on him, her question casual and her attitude reserved, as though they hadn't spent the morning sneaking around and conniving against the very powerful sorceress a few rooms over. The raven honestly wanted to smack her for being so brazen, but Winifred was nowhere in sight, nobody was, besides Goodwyn, and an outburst would raise more red flags than her simply talking to him.

Remembering that he could communicate with more than words, the raven shrugged in the direction of the stairs, then went back to curling into himself, hoping she'd just leave, but of course she stayed.

Something crossed her face, something scrutinizing for only a moment before it gave way to sympathy. Whatever she was looking for was an obvious find on his features.

"Wormwood, are you alright?"

Her words were soft, and he hated it. She approached him with the tenderness of a concerned mother, like he was so incompetent with his own emotions he needed to be eased through them, though considering what he'd just done to Cedric, she wasn't entirely off base.

Still, he was insulted, and felt that defensive urge to bite back with something that would hurt, something he could  _shove right in her self righteous little know-it-all face._ He jerked his head from his brooding, ready to do just that when he saw her face, and his anger went cold. Not eased, but  _cold._

Sofia was close, only a few inches away, and from here he could see a faint scar on the bridge of her nose. He doesn't remember her ever having it, but he can guess how she got it. There really was no end to the damage he caused.

A familiar pain gripped and twisted him. He knows this feeling. It was with him in the dark, candle-lit dungeon, looking at him when Cedric refused to. It draped over him as much as Cedric's shadow did on the way to the cottage after he had panicked and insulted his friend. It was  _here,_ looking at him in the shape of Sofia's scar, and others he knew she had.

_Guilt._ And this guilt would mar Sofia's face for the rest of her life as a constant reminder to her, to him, and everyone. He didn't want to bite back anymore, he'd done enough to her.

" _Wormwood, did something happen? You didn't answer-"_

"I screwed up."

Wormwood turned away. A lot was swimming in his head at the moment, and he didn't need his affected emotions to be on a shameless display for her, even if they most definitely still were, he could  _feel_  like they weren't.

Sofia didn't push him for more, instead she smiled in that understanding way that made her look like so much like Miranda, and settled back into the couch with a comfortable silence. No doubt she was proud of him, but as usual, the raven saw nothing to be proud of.

He wanted to tell her that he had cost her her precious magic show, her time with Cedric and his family, and Cedric his fun. He wanted to tell her just _how_  he screwed up. To confess. But Wormwood didn't.

The idea that he had thrown a wrench into their plans made Wormwood's chest bloom in a selfish satisfaction. That at least this one time Cedric would feel like such a nuisance to Sofia he wouldn't immediately seek out the girl for solace, that Cedric would be so broken down that he'd stay in his room and give Wormwood ample time to come up with something to say to clean up one of his own messes for once. But he'd never have such luck.

A creak at the bottom of the staircase got all their attentions, but Wormwood didn't look, still couldn't. Couldn't even believe. Sofia was up in a whistle of air, prattling on to her dear mentor on all the things they would do for their performance. The ladies came out from the kitchen, mother, father, sister, and niece gathering on the couches to wait patiently for the entertainment to start.

Wormwood was dumbfounded. Years of weekends spent in the tower with the doors locked told him that Cedric should be in no state to do anything, especially with the person he felt like a weight to. That he was  _told_ he was weighing down. But Wormwood could still see the ache in his steps, the hesitant movements around Sofia like touching her would turn her to stone, and fall. The fatigue.

But Cedric was here. Downstairs and going to do what he had planned to do, promised to. Promised Sofia.

There was no stage, and he wasn't up to it, but Cedric would do it. Wormwood understood then, that as beaten down and pathetic as Cedric ever was, he'd do what he could for Sofia. He'd do what he couldn't. Just for Sofia.

Wormwood felt a sick toss in his stomach that deceived it's way into him with the familiar joy of soaring. Floating. And for a bitter moment, he wished that scar was bigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aw man i feel kinda bad for that last part, but it was the part that i was like most pumped to write like dayum  
> you ever been so insecure in your relationship that you get jealous of a 2 yr old with no self preservation skills?  
> cuz thats wormwood  
> congrats your wormwood  
> you sad bastard


	17. urgency

The magic show ended pretty late in the day, practically dinnertime. So while Cordelia and Winifred rushed to get the food ready, Goodwyn and Cedric had their hands full cleaning up the living area, washing dishes, and setting the table. Calista was upstairs taking a much needed nap, and as a guest, Sofia’s help was politely declined. 

Without much to do, Sofia tried to busy herself roaming the rotunda, glancing over every knick-knack and memento in their cases. Her interest however, was only a cover to mask the intensity with which her mind was working to piece together the revealed clues to Winifred’s game, if that was what it was. It was a skill that Chrysta had spent a good afternoon drilling into her.  _ “Move your feet, smile, look casual, but keep those cogs turning,”  _ the senior protector would instruct.  _ “When you’re in the lion’s den you can’t risk looking suspicious or out of place for even a second.” _

Infiltration missions were a manageable challenge in the Mystic Isles, but down here on solid ground was an entirely different world in the metaphorical sense as much as the literal, and Sofia felt like the control she had over the situation was the shadow of a dangling string cast on the wall. And as much as she enjoyed a good mystery, standing around thinking was getting her nowhere.

The young protector looked around, and found herself alone. With everyone bustling about the kitchen, she figured now was as good as ever to inspect the contents of the book she had collected from the library. The only issue was getting to the place where she’d hidden it.

The front door had long been restored, but to the same homeliness of its dwelling, its joints creaked something awful. Attention was something Sofia didn’t want right now, and with featherlight, noiseless steps, she climbed the stairs to settle for a window.

She was pushing open her door when she recalled that this wasn’t a solo mission.

Wormwood had been quiet the entire magic show, and Cedric was tense for its start. No doubt both were pouting independent of each other, though they preferred to call it  _ “brooding” _ . She would have found some humor in their seemingly connected pride, but right now, if the raven wanted his answers, he needed to be fully in. and if that meant Sofia was to once again play peacemaker, she’d do it. She honestly cared for her friends, but she couldn’t deny the intrigue Winifred’s game was drawing her in with, or the fact that her visit to the meadow was on a time limit tied to Wormwood’s willingness.

With a patient sigh she closed shut the door, and turned to Cedric’s room. Wormwood was in there no doubt.  _ Brooding. _ With gentle hands Sofia turned the knob and pushed open the door. There was an anxiousness in her, like the wormwood from three years ago was waiting on the other side for the slightest disturbance to spring forth and slam the door shut in her face, claw at her like he tried to Amber. In admonishment she paused, scolding herself for such a regression of character towards him, and with that settled she continued into the room.

There was always a stillness in the tower back home, the old stone walls were cold, and the endless shelves stocked with books evoked awe without touch, but here in this room, the air was dead, and the shelves of trinkets rich with stories didn’t evoke any feeling of admiration from the girl intruding on them. Like the ones downstairs, she wasn’t the least bit interested, instead her eyes settled on the raven perched on the wall rack by the closed window. As still as he was, you could mistake him for just another trinket.

_ “Wormwood?”  _ Sofia whispered, though she didn’t know why.

For a moment he didn’t move, and in that time Sofia was almost convinced she was talking to a replica of the bird the Goodwyns made to dissipate the emptiness of their home.

“What is it?” the raven finally asked, yellow eyes not leaving the locked window. His interest in it pegged Sofia with concern, and astonishment for the amount of damage one little raven could do.

“Everyone’s busy right now,” she continued to whisper, “I wanted to go through that book if we have time. Are you up to it?” She spoke gently, and she knew Wormwood hated it, but her sleeves were a bit dry of tricks right now. She felt them empty when she walked through the door.

“If you’re interested, by all means go give it a read, I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment.”

His reply shocked her, but she knew he’d give her an earful if she actually dared.

“You need to come with me, Wormwood.” Sofia felt her irritation rising. “You’re just sitting here in the dark when the answers you want are buried under a tree a few yards away!”

“Under a  _ tree? Rather cliche wouldn’t you say, princess?”  _ his voice was thick with that venom he’d always address her with in her first year in the castle, full of disdain and condescension, only she didn’t know what brought it on now, nor could she deny it’s sting.

“Wormwood, we don’t have time for this,” she Practically hissed at him. “Is this about what happened between you and Mr. Cedric?”

That last one must have struck a nerve, because the raven’s attention snapped to her so quick Sofia would have worried for his neck if the look in his eyes wasn’t far more concerning, more terrifying. She’d never been scared of Wormwood, even the apprehension she felt before entering was built more from the fear of him regressing in his growth than ever hurting her.

Those yellow eyes were locked seemingly with her own, but as Sofia stared, the more it seemed he was looking between them, at something she couldn’t see. A look of pain passed over him, but it was dark, and Sofia made no assumptions. Almost tiredly he gave up his intimidation, and went back to glaring at the window. A new silence opening between them.

Any fear Sofia felt in the moment had gone, replaced with a familiar empathy that bloomed in her chest. The urgency she felt before was gone, the book forgotten, if only for the moment. Feather-soft she stepped over to his window, lifting the latch and opening the doors. A breeze flew in, hitting them both and watering Sofia’s eyes with its strength, and she rubbed it away.

She didn’t look behind her, but she heard Wormwood stretch and sigh a quiet relief to the cool air that made the heavy room much fresher. The light that made it less dark.

“I’m sorry.”

It split the silence like the crack of a whip, and jounced off the walls, fading.

“I wish I knew how to be.”

It came after, _much_ _after._ But like the words before it, it recoiled through the room, yet faded slower.

Neither were really aware how much time had passed, how much was wasted just sitting at the window, but neither cared. They stayed like that until a gentle knock on the doorframe called them down to dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really need to get like a beta reader or something, cuz i have no idea how these chapters are turning out. i dont "edit" i just slam my face on the keyboard and hit submit


	18. just like you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you ever realize your just like your grandmother and then get really sad for like 2 years???  
> this is like that except not really, ok lets go

Sofia was idle once again while those around her busied themselves with the mess. She was still a guest- and rather than fight them on it, she took the role in stride, settling to sit and watch.

The Goodwyns moved in a very clear harmony as they cleaned, hands coming down to the table, collecting plates, cups, and bowls. Not a bump or backspace as they all knew their practiced choreography by heart, a rhythm that worked for them. The fluidity reminded her of early mornings in the village, setting up the shop with her mother.

But Sofia knew there was an inherent difference between the rhythm in which a loving mother and daughter would work together, and how this family worked  _around_ each other. Cedric and Cordelia stuck to their sides of the table, hands never bumping nor brushing, not a misstep as years of avoiding one another stayed hard-wired into their movements. Goodwyn was silent as he worked, giving a soft grunt here and there to acknowledge his wife, who was the only one speaking. Idle chatter poured out of the old sorceress's mouth like a steady stream. Sofia could tell that this was as routine as her family's maneuvering.

" _How long had she been doing this?"_ Sofia wondered. " _To_   _be the only one to fill a house full of family, who refused to speak to each other, with any kind of noise."_

So many years of resentment. She thinks on every consequence derived from " _the incident":_  cedric couldn't  _talk_ to his sister, Cordelia belittled him in return, and Goodwyn pressured if he wasn't being condescending, and what she never realized, in the middle of it all: a mother, trying desperately to hold those she loved together, even if it was just with meaningless talk that they didn't care to hear, too absorbed in their bitterness.

Sympathy weighed down Sofia's chest, and for the first time, Winifred didn't seem like the terrifying enigma that had eyes in every crack of the walls, but instead, the tired mother of a broken home. It must have been lonely.

But the more she thought on it, the more the sympathy she always gave out so freely felt undeserved. Before, she might have felt it was the families own hubris that prevented them from listening to their matron's efforts to reconnect, but now… now there was magic involved. The spell lingering over them all and keeping Winifred hidden.

Would they have been willing to listen to her? Could everything have been fixed decades earlier if Winifred simply lifted her barrier? Talked to her children instead of at them? Whatever secrets the old woman kept mattered more than her family falling apart around her, and  _that_  was what made Winifred so undeserving of sympathy in Sofia's eyes.  _That she made efforts to bring them back together, but not the best effort she could have made, that hiding mattered more than helping those she loved. Remaining an enigma mattered more than letting those close to her in._

Winifred was undeserving of sympathy. But whether or not Sofia liked it, the old sorceress had her empathy.

* * *

The cleaning was done. Everyone had gathered in the living room, and with a head full of what felt like cotton, Sofia chose to instead trudge around the stairs of the rotunda, at a loss of what to do with herself and the bottled feelings she couldn't express.

She stopped her pacing for a minute, and leaned against the railing, looking down to the family sitting on the couches, talking. Cedric was doing much better now, Cordelia was back to ribbing him she could tell from the woman  _actually_ ribbing him.  _Hard._  never a man for many words, Goodwyn was mostly silent, throwing the occasional smart comment Cedric's way that the ladies-  _sans Calista,_  laughed at. The little girl was quick to admonish her grandfather for his mouth. How often insults and jabs flew, it was like a normal form of expression to the Goodwyn's, the level of seriousness behind every remark depending on the commenter's mood. How Sofia tried to compare them to her own family seemed ridiculous now. Except of course, when she looked to Winifred.

_Hiding was more important than her family._ Sofia's eye twitched as her face fell into a scowl.

_Her secrets were more important than her family._  small fists clenched into the wood of the rail and shook with a deep rage. Something personal, and Sofia knew what.

_Just like you._ The tension left her fists, her scowl was gone.

For so long the secrets she kept, the alternate lives she lead, were her own burden. Her family knew nothing, and Sofia was content to keep them knowing nothing. Even after Amber had found out about her becoming a protector she would tell her sister nothing else of her adventures or the struggles. Even now, when her whole family knew, and she came home tired or sore. They would ask, and Sofia would give them nothing, till eventually they stopped asking, every now and again though, Miranda checks in on her daughter despite the nothing she knows she'll get.

Was being Winifred inescapable for her? Old, tired,  _so tired, and so secretive to those she cared about until she was as invisible as the sorceress herself, only without_   _the trickery of magic?_  The pain of such a possible future panged her chest, but once again the idea that she would one day have a family _\- a husband,_ hit too, and it didn't fit right. She shook the thought from her, one demon at a time, she refocused.

Secrets weren't the last of it. Though Sofia questioned the effort in the attempts she made, Winifred had tried to put herself between a failing family, trying to keep the peace and fix what was broken. Sofia was all too familiar with the role. Being the mediator to her father, the trolls, her friends, her siblings, Ivy, ...Mr. Cedric, and Cordelia.

She took a minute to rest, then looked back to the others down below, to Winifred. Old, tired, secretive Winifred.

_Just like you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *walks in 2 1/2 months later with coffee* hey what's up?
> 
> im genuinely sorry this took so long. but do you ever get that whole- "the deeper i go into this story, the more clear or put together my writing has to be?" cuz i got that bad rn. but i recently got a message from someone telling me to come back so did. im a people pleaser and all my self worth is tied into online validation from you guys. but honestly tho, it was nice to get a message asking me to return. its kind of a motivator, ya know?
> 
> ANYWAY, next chapter: tea, winifred, danger, friendship?????

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally on ff, but i've moved it over here because this was where i was originally intending to put it.  
> still the same thing with a few touch ups here and there because apparanly ff doesn't want to fix my damn typos  
> enjoy!


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